


Spacin' Out

by hepsybeth



Category: Iron Giant (1999), Treasure Planet (2002)
Genre: 1960s, Conspiracy, Gen, Space Pirates, also i gave hogarth a little sister just because, and idk lore???? worldbuilding?????, annie "muffins solve all problems" mcoppin, at this point i'm just here for the laff as well, dean "you already know it is!!!!" mcoppin, hogarth "is better than you and you know it and love him" hughes, i actually made up tags when it comes to the characters so, i'm not sure where i'm gonna fit kent but i'm gonna find a way, james "what is sleep? idk her" hawkins, kath's from the never-made sequel, katherine "fluent in snark and exasperation" blake, kimo "is just here for the laff" pelekai, kimo's technically an oc but still technically not, sarah "boss ass bitch" hawkins, silver's gonna fit in there somewhere too because i love him way too much to leave him out, united galactic federation is a Hot Mess, very parent trap esque sorta lmao
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-10
Updated: 2018-01-24
Packaged: 2019-02-12 21:39:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 31,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12968949
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hepsybeth/pseuds/hepsybeth
Summary: this was all inspired by tumblr user @chokopoppo and I have them to think for even coming up with this. (I had a good part of this already written before I decided to post because I didn't want to just post and lose motivation lol)basically, hogarth and jim are half-brothers and they find each other and solve a mystery (I'm bad at summaries!!!)





	1. Don't Think Twice, It's All Right (Or Hogarth Wears Himself Out By Getting All Existential On His Rooftop)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Chokopoppo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chokopoppo/gifts).



> This (http://chokopoppo. tumblr. com/ post/ 144881550752/ derplefarglydoop-chokopoppo) is the post that started it all.
> 
> Also, there's a good chance that I'll come back and revise every once in a while because I feel like I don't give characters a great voice and I need to improve upon that.
> 
> And I'm gonna make a playlist for this thing

Three o'clock in the morning is an awful time to start thinking of one's place in the universe. However, Hogarth Hughes wasn't exactly the greatest example of a person who always made smart decisions.

It was a humid early June in Rockwell, which was about as unusual as it was uncomfortable. Coastal Maine summers tended to be warm and fairly dry, an annual climate characteristic that Hogarth hadn’t appreciated until the water in the air began to cling to his skin like Saran Wrap. The heavy humidity had only been around for the past three days, so practically forever for the fifteen-year old. Blue blankets and striped bedsheets were piled unceremoniously on the floor beside the bed. Even with his bedroom window opened, the boy couldn’t help but feel like he was melting into his mattress.

With more effort than it should have warranted, he turned on his side to where his clock was standing on his bedside. Its pale face seemed ominous in the dark and its seconds hand ticked by almost accusingly. _1:34_ , it said. _1:34 on a school night_ , it said knowingly, in his father’s voice oddly enough.

 _1:34 on a Monday morning during the second to last week of junior year, Hog Hug_ , Hogarth thought.

And he couldn't sleep.

There was something strange in the air, he felt, and not just the annoying abundance of hot water. His body wasn’t shaking with electric anticipation that came from completing yet another year of school. One year closer to whatever and wherever. It was something else. Not that he had any knowledge about whether or not his senses were “up to scratch”, as his physics teacher liked to put it, but there was something he just couldn’t place.

The house was silent enough, the occasional creaks of the house settling notwithstanding. His mom tended to sleep like the dead when she didn’t have a night shift. Cynthia always fell asleep right after dinner and hardly ever woke up during the night. Also, he couldn’t hear his step-dad messing around in the barn outside; he was probably long asleep too. This in mind, Hogarth sat up in his bed, shivering as he did so when a sudden cool breeze entered his room. It felt like nothing short of the fingers of Frosty the Snowman himself when he felt the air. Hogarth couldn’t understand it. How could the breeze be _so cold_ when every other time it felt like God’s hot breath on him every waking hour.

Jeez, he couldn’t stand the heat.

His sock-covered feet moved carefully on the ground, slipping every so often on the wooden floor. He reached his dresser and opened the bottom drawer. He pulled out a white t-shirt and tried to ignore the unsavory smell coming off of it. He pulled it on and, afterwards, checked to see if there were any cigarettes in his pockets. Satisfied that they were there, he grabbed his white All Stars and laced them on, double knotted.

Another breeze blew in and the sound of the wind whistled. The hoots of owls came and went and the light of the large half moon produced a muted glow over the foresty landscape.

Hogarth began to open his window further when his left pointer finger snagged on a raised piece of wood. Cursing at the blood that the splinter had formed, his eyes gazed momentarily at the nail holes left by a certain paranoid ginger who no longer worked for the government. Sighing at the memory of years ago, he exited legs first. Swinging his legs over the side of the window, he reached out for the nearest tree branch and he closed his window, using his foot, most of the way, leaving it a crack open. He didn’t want to come back to a hot and stuffy room.

Muscle memory guided him, even though his legs were longer and his hands were wider than they were when he was kid. Adapting, he made his way up the tree and then up the side of the house where he knew a rooftop and an endless nighttime sky were waiting for him.

The roof used to be a gable one, but Dean-- ever the creative force-- wanted to try out one of many things, so the roof was flatter. His mother called it “slightly gambrel”. Dean called it “innovation”. Hogarth didn’t know what to call it. All he knew was that he made a part of the roof flatter since he knew his new step-son had a penchant for stargazing. Built him a telescope and everything.

Finally there, he moved himself into the same position he was on his bed before he decided to pursue this little venture. Back to the burning roof, arms folded across his chest, blue eyes searching whatever was above him. His eyes stopped on the moon. It was bright and covered with craters.

He wondered if humans would ever make it there.

He wondered if anyone had ever made it there.

He remembered something, back before everything had happened, back before the Giant and endless days of government people knocking at his mother’s door, pestering Hogarth again and again about any and all possible close encounters he had made since the Giants eventful visit to Rockwell. Heck, even back before he skipped the third grade and dealt with getting pounded day in and day out.

Back then, he had the crazy idea that they weren’t alone in the universe. Now, obviously, he knows that he was right, but back then, it was more speculation. His was never a particularly religious family-- they just stepped inside the local church during Easter and Christmas and everyone said grace at dinner-- and his mom sometimes entertained even his most strange beliefs. So, when he asked if there really were aliens out there, proof be damned, his mom replied with, “Well if God created the world and all that’s in it, there’s no reason he couldn’t have tried his hand at life a few more times” and that satisfied a seven year old Hogarth just fine.  

Hogarth pulled out cigarette and used his lighter to set the tip aflame. Breathing in the smoke and blowing it out, he watched as the wisps of smoke appeared to reflect the dim moonlight.

It was the second to last week of school, the second to last week of him being a junior in high school. One year closer to a world of even more uncertainty than one of a sleepy town that had a close encounter with a giant metal man. And he hadn’t a clue what he wanted to do in his life.

Sure, he could go for a trade or work in service like his mom. Or do whatever it was the hell it was that Dean did.

The thing was, he didn't want to find himself thirty years in a profession that made him not want to wake up in the morning, something Calvin O'Keeffe in his Woodworking class said was what his dad is going through. Hogarth also didn't see himself as a "people-person" like his mom was, able to pull a smile and a hearty tip from even the most stoic of customers. Lastly, while Hogarth had a creative bone or two in his body, he was pretty sure that illustrators were a dime a dozen and he knew for a fact that Dean had to be doing something on the side in order to provide for them. Not that he had any idea what it was. But Hogarth was more than certain that sculptures of two-headed dragons, among other things, didn't always sell that well. His line of work couldn't possibly be stable all on its own, but what did he know?

And to hell with working for the government. He overheard it being suggested to his mom by men in black suits and black fedoras when no one knew he was eavesdropping.

He imagined himself in the hands of the Giant as he flew through the air. Forget about needing to find a job here in the real world. Forget about silly stuff like needing to breathe oxygen. They’d soar past the stratosphere, past the troposphere. They’d be surrounded by stars and head for the moon.

“Look out your window and I’ll be gone,” Hogarth muttered to himself as he watched the stars twinkle above. He silently decided to stay up here until he saw the sun rise. He figured he could sleep in class. He got all As anyway.

* * *

 

“Hogarth?”

“...”

“ _Hogarth?”_

“...”

“C’mon, Hogarth. This paper ain't gonna write itself.”

Hogarth blinked open his eyes and his eyes adjusted to the harsh yellow light of the cafeteria. The jarring sound of high school chatter, a sound he’d somehow been able to tune out by just simply closing his eyes, attacked his ears all at once. In front of him, he saw the bespectacled face of Kimo Pelekai, his friend since freshman year. The boy sat across from him at the lunch table the two were sitting at. His large ears stuck out and his mouth was open, as if he was about to say something again. He was from Hawai’i and, when his dad got a job offer on the mainland, had transferred to Rockwell’s own Anderson S. Stanfield High School, an establishment lovingly nicknamed ASS by the local youth. The school had the nickname coming, in Hogarth's opinion.

Kimo was an interesting character, second only to Hogarth in interest in space. But where Hogarth enjoyed art and spent a lot of his time sketching out various things in his imagination, Kimo was more interested in science and at any given afternoon, you could hear the sound of him tinkering away in his family’s garage. Additionally, once you got Kimo going on a certain subject, he wouldn't stop chattering about it for hours. So, while Hogarth couldn't pinpoint the exact moment his first year of high school when they became friends, it was no surprise to anyone that they would become almost inseparable.

Hell, the guy even skipped a grade too.

 _Oddballs attract oddballs_ , he figured.

“Aw, cool it, Kimo,” Hogarth said, rubbing sleep from his eyes. Blinking some more, he reached his fingers behind his neck and started scratching there. “You know I use lunch to sleep.”

“Uh, no,” replied Kimo, speaking around the food in his mouth. Corn, probably. “Lunch is for eatin’. Plus, I know this already. You prob’ly stayed up all night stargazin’ and gettin’ your head goin’ 100 miles an hour. But that doesn’t matter. We’ve got _this_.” Seemingly out of nowhere, or maybe Hogarth was just tired, the boy pulled out a paper. A paper covered in words, words that meant _something_ , obviously. He was just too tired to read what it said.

“What is it?” he asked.

“Rules for the final paper,” answered Kimo. He wiped the table with the sleeve of his jacket before placing the paper down, right side up facing Hogarth. “The instructions and guidelines about what ideas are allowed.”

“Oh,” was Hogarth’s response. The final science paper of junior year. He remembered his science teacher, Dr. Shelnutt, talking about it in class. In the process of Kimo and Hogarth graduating to the eleventh grade, the school had given Dr. Shelnutt reign over the sophomore and junior physical science classes, so the boys had him two years in a row. Thing is, it was a sort of catch 22. The two greatly enjoyed the teacher’s company and would frequently talk to him about concepts outside of class, but the teacher also had the idea that the boys were headed for greatness, a belief that had them being called on in class all the time, despite the raised hands of other students. Hogarth could never get away with sleeping in that class, the first class of the day. Dr. Shelnutt wanted to “Push them to their limits” as he liked to say. Hogarth didn’t care for the sentiment. Just because he did the stupid homework didn’t mean he wanted to be teacher’s pet.

Sure, talking to the man all the time about this and that sure didn’t help, but _still._

“Well,” Hogarth yawned. “You got an idea?” He remembered that they were allowed to be in groups of two or three for the project.

“I’m not really sure. Maybe about the solar eclipse in July.” Kimo started peeling his orange while he explained. “Remember that?”

“Yeah, I remember,” Hogarth responded. “The one in July.” He smiled as he stirred his mashed potatoes around in his tray with his plastic spoon. “Won’t be for another sixty years, man.”

“Bitchin’”, said Kimo while Hogarth nodded in agreement.

“How long does it have to be,” Hogarth asked, stifling a yawn. “I don’t remember what he said about it, but I hope it's not that much.”

“Uh,” Kimo pushed his glasses up his nose while he looked over the paper. His fingers ran down the page searching for where the answer was located. “Um, about ten pages?”

Hogarth’s eyes widened in surprise. He ran his hand through his hair in distress. “How the hell are we gonna talk about a solar eclipse for ten whole pages?” Eyeing the paper, he grabbed for it. “Gimme that.” He quickly scanned the paper saying where the ten-page rule was. “Ten pages, my ass,” he muttered to himself.

“Well,” Kimo drew out the word. “It’s more like ten pages maximum. But!” he held out his hand when Hogarth opened his mouth in order to voice his complaints. “It’s extra credit if we do the maximum. And you know how tough of a grader Shelnutt is.”

“Yeah,” Hogarth said, frustration still thick in his voice. “He’s like jerky. Tell me something I don’t know.” He used his fork to point at Kimo. “Still. We’re not doing ten whole pages, Kimo.” He moved to the left so he could avoid what seemed to be a flying apple poorly aimed at the trashcan behind him. “There’s brown-nosing and then there’s just plain obnoxious.” On account of Kimo’s glasses fogging up from the steam of his mashed potatoes, Hogarth couldn’t discern what the other’s face looked like. “Seven pages,” he finished.

“Nine pages,” Kimo countered.

“Eight pages,” Hogarth said. “Else you’re gonna need to find a new writing partner.”

Kimo gave a little shurg and began shoveling green peas in his mouth.

“Hey, Kimo?”

“Yeah?” A few peas fell out of his mouth and Kimo cursed softly.

“You’re always gonna be Shelnutt’s favorite student, you know that right?” Hogarth might not notice everything, but he noticed a lot of things about Kimo. Namely about the way he presented himself. He was the new kid, always the new kid. Even when there were newer kids, Kimo always stuck out. He was the only kid who wasn’t white in the entire school and there was no end in sight for all the mean-spirited comments that would eventually come his way. He wanted to, at the very least, be a good student, even a favorite one. Hogarth remembered Kimo telling him that he didn’t want to be remembered as the only Hawaiian kid who ever lived in Rockwell, however cool that might be. He wanted to be remembered for what he did and he wanted people to like him, not just the Hughes-McCoppin household. So, whenever Kimo was able to pull a smile or a compliment out of Dr. Shelnutt, it was an accomplishment he never took lightly.

Kimo shrugged as a smile pulled at the corner of his lips. “Yeah, ok. Now, back to the solar eclipse. It’s in a little over a month and we’re gonna need some way to view even, after the paper.”

“Dean’ll fix me up something,” Hogarth said, referencing his step-dad. “He’s more an arts and crafts guy, but he did make me that telescope that one time, so I’m sure it’s right up his alley one way or another.”

"We could use arts and crafts," Kimo said thoughtfully. "Imagine how cool it'd be if we had a visual."

"You wanna present it to the class, huh," Hogarth said, not really asking.

"I absolutely wanna present it to the class."

"Gosh, Kimo. You know no one else is gonna do it in front of the class."

"Think about," Kimo said. "It'll stick out. I'll negotiate some extra credit points out of it."

As lunch went on, the two boys discussed how the project would be. What would be the ins and outs of the essay? What would be the best books to use for research? However, at the back of his mind, the same thoughts that had kept Hogarth awake in the morning found a way back to the front of his mind. So as the clock hand traveled closer to the time they would have to leave the cafeteria, and while Kimo was still going on about the logistics of a light box eclipse project, if that was the route they wanted to go on, Hogarth heard the words leave his mouth unprompted.

"Do you ever think about what you're gonna do in the future?"

"Yeah, sometimes," Kimo answered. "It's a loaded question though. Ask anyone here, but I don't know if anyone's gonna give you a straight answer to that."

"Figured," Hogarth answered.

"Probably something cool, though."

"What?"

"In the future, I'm probably gonna do something cool. Like be a spy or something. Take out villains." Kimo finger-gunned at Hogarth. "Get paid. Get chased by beautiful women."

"Shut up, Kimo," Hogarth laughed.

"But honestly, we've got another year to figure that out." And with that, Kimo stood up and picked up his lunch tray. "And you'll probably do some cool stuff too. Not as cool as me, but near there."

Hogarth rolled his eyes in response and followed Kimo to the back of the cafeteria to throw away his trash. Maybe he was right. There was nothing to worry about.


	2. I Got A Rocket In My Pocket (Or Graduation May Be More Trouble Than It's Worth)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introducing: Jim Hawkins and Katherine Blake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The song I use in the title is I Got A Rocket In My Pocket, by Jimmy Lloyd (1958). Basically, any song on or made before 1963 is fair game. This song was also already used in the movie, but a good song is worth listening to more than once!
> 
> Also, some notes:  
> • Royal Interstellar Academy (and Her Majesty’s Navy) are obviously Navy in nature (pirates, sailors, etc.), but their “ships” are also spaceships, so they learn how to man a ship as well as learning how to “fly” a ship. The best of both worlds, I guess  
> • The RIA is 5 years. I assume that after the shit that happened at the end of Treasure Planet, a definite year passed in which they settled debts, bought a new place, the babies were born, and Jim studied to pass his entrance exams  
> • And I assume that Jim had three years of finishing highschool (this was just me trying to figure out the timelines and they reference highschool in the movie, so I went with it)  
> • Also, everything i know about the fucking military is from the fucking movies and wikipedia (poorly researched), so i’m sorry for any military people who might read this story, but get this: it’s in space and the rules don’t matter lmao  
> • Also also, idunno know shit about the navy and ranks and “ensign kate” is supposed to be her title according to the cancelled treasure planet 2 notes, but there’s also the fact that they haven't graduated yet, so  
> • And a "specie" is just a space nickel

There were many times in his life when Jim Hawkins cursed the name of Katherine Blake.

He could remember like yesterday when he got admitted into the Royal Interstellar Academy. He remembered studying for hours, for weeks. He remembered traveling for miles on his solar surfer to get to the nearest library to borrow holo-books about the history of the Navy and of wars that the Royal Navy fought in (he didn’t want to be absolutely clueless about what he was getting into). He remembered staying up into the early morning reading about mathematics and science and physics, things that he always held a slight interest to but now he had a reason to invest time into them. For the first time in his life he had a very discernable goal. He was well aware that the recommendation that Captain Amelia Doppler would only get him so far; he could walk in, attempt the mandatory test, and leave with a resounding failure proving anyone, anywhere, absolutely nothing.

That, and he didn't want to mess that up. Even if he decided to not pay attention to the judgments of other people, this was a goal he set for himself. He wanted this, needed this.

In fact, the one thing that Jim remembered the most was learning how prestigious and competitive the Royal Interstellar Academy was. _Gishtila Ilimi Eniri Mula._ Forward Is Our Bright Future. It was no surprise then that they only accepted the best and the brightest among their millions of applicants (a fact that astounded Jim until he learned that the Academy had hundreds of locations around the galaxy, the closest to him being Port Ivy. Even so, their pool of accepted applicants was so small. Only ten percent got in.)

From the beginning, he knew that even if he managed to squeeze in, and that was a big “if”, he would be forced to live and work among people who never would have associated themselves with him before. They were rich kids with their private tutors and multiple homes and family vacations to the Pillars of Creation every cycle. Those were the types of people Jim couldn’t stand, the types of people who wouldn’t blink their eyes at spending in an entire afternoon what his mother used to make in one cycle.

He remembered thinking that if he made it in, dealing with them on the daily would just be nothing short of a necessary evil.

He remembered the day of the test and how he learned that stress can take several forms. There was the stress that he felt in his stomach as he flew to the test location on his solar surfer. It felt like a living thing, twisting and turning and reaching around inside him so much so that he felt nauseous. There was the stress that he felt in his chest as he stood in line waiting to get checked in, like a heavy cold ball making it hard for him to breathe, making him want to sink into the floor. There was the stress that he felt in his head once he sat down and started on his test, pulsing and making it difficult for him to focus.

Despite it all, stress had nothing on the determination of James Pleiades Hawkins and he made it into the pool of accepted applicants, and not even barely.

There was then the physical test and the congratulatory letter home. Jim remembered celebrating with his mother and friends, old and new, and awaiting the day when he could walk inside the doors of the prestigious institution on southern Montressor and start his new life.

And then he met Katherine Blake.

Katherine Blake and her uppity attitude and her no-strand-out-of-place buns and her obsession with always being top of the class and her posh accent and her annoying tendency to single out Jim for any and all of his mistakes with her know-it-all mocking voice.

To his chagrin (and, he assumed, to her never-ending delight), students at the Royal Interstellar Academy, and all of its branches, started early in having their students work in groups, groups which became permanent over the course of their education. It was done in order to force them to work with one another in everyday life, just like they would have to do when they were legitimate Sailors. These groups of twenty ate together, studied together, practiced together, and slept together. They would do this for the duration of their time at the Academy, a five year venture.

Five years of Katherine Blake was five years too many, but the five years weren’t even complete yet. Which was why he and Katherine Blake were standing at attention in the office of Major Duun as he went through holograms of their records. Something about qualifications, Jim was thinking. Jim personally hoped that whatever they were called in for wouldn’t take so long since he had skipped out on lunch while he was designing his latest invention.

Jim hadn’t been in this room that often. It was sterile and white; the only color came through the windows that looked over the Mountains of Aelt, the marbled rock formation that surrounded the southern Montressin country of Jevo. They were formed millions of cycles ago, crystalline layers of yellow and red and green and purple. Whenever the sun rose and set, visible from in between those peaks, a vast array of colors would shine throughout the office. Jim was no archaeologist, but he knew it was a sight to behold.

Besides the window, not much else was in Major Duun’s office. There was his desk, brown and simple. The floor was wooden, and so was his cabinet filled with records, both in the forms of paper and holos. No pictures of family decorated the walls or anything. It was an office and nothing more.

_Even so_ , Jim thought, _it somehow had more of a personality than Major Duun himself_.

“As you know,” the rough voice of Major Duun began. His lower two eyes looked up at Jim and, although he knew that the Major had no hidden ability to read minds, Jim quickly focused his thoughts at the situation at hand. Major Duun’s short brown hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and third eye, plain glass with no additional gadgetry, stared straight ahead while his two lower eyes looked up and down the holograms around his desk. “You are both the top students of in this branch of the RIA.” His voice rose and fell, emphasizing words at random. Even after five years, Jim wasn’t sure if that was characteristic of all Ravods (natives of Ravod, the furthest planet from Montressor in their star system) or just him.

Jim felt a smile tug at the corner of his lips and glanced at Katherine Blake to see if there was any physical response from her.

Her brown face was impassive as her golden eyes stared straight ahead.

Jim resisted the urge to roll his eyes. _Typical,_ he thought. _Doesn’t even recognize a compliment when she hears one_.

_Unless,_ he continued, _the idea of her sharing a top position is an insult to her_.

He tried even harder not to smile.

“As is tradition, every student, prior to graduation, must complete one mission. Flying colors is the standard. I accept no less.” He paused as if to make his point. “But,” a proud to his voice, “That shouldn’t be an issue with my finest students, yes?"

“No sir,” replied Jim and Katherine in perfect sync.

“At Port Ivy, we look at a student’s strong suits. Some students, from the beginning, are shown to have a calling for the medical field.” With this, a hologram showing RIA graduates as medics appeared. With a hand motion, the Major moved it to the side and continued. “Some students learn over time that they have a knack for building, those creative types.” A hologram with RIA graduates as engineers materialized. “Some students have a gift for communication. And so on and so forth.” A few more holograms showed up in succession before he made a motion with his hands and they all vanished.

“In short, we tailor the mission for the student, to their strengths. Those who worked so hard for these past five years, the ones who didn’t falter and didn’t take the easy way out and give up, those students are part of what makes the Royal Interstellar Academy the reputable institution that it has been for the past five hundred years and what will make it continue to be.”

In all the time that Jim had been a student here, if he had a specie for every time he heard Major Dunn sing the praises of this Academy, he’d be even richer than Captain Flint.

“Which brings me your mission.” Major Dunn folded his fingers together on his desk and eyed the students standing in front of him. “Missions are built for two student teams, not twenty. Yours will be a retrieval.” The Major leaned back in his chair and fiddled with some buttons on the wall. The lights in the office grew dim and the shutters slowly covered the window. Gradually, green lights began to fill the room creating a small model of the planet Montressor. The similarly green spaceport satellite Crescentia slowly orbited it. However, just as soon as it was there, the models shrunk in size and the more planets in their star system in various colors began to show up. In a few seconds’ time, the green lights of Montressor and Crescentia became lost within the one of many spiral arms of the Rolouson Galaxy.

“This is the home of our civilization,” the Major said as the holographic model of the galaxy spun in place. “Most of everything we know starts here. All our history, all our stories. Wars, peacetime, and the tumultuous times in between. And leaving the galaxy is no short task. But, that is in fact what I have in mind for the two of you.”

The room was silent, enough so that Jim braved a question. “Permission to speak, sir?”

“Permission granted.”

“This retrieval, like you said, is beyond our galaxy.” He fiddled with his fingers, hands loosely clasped together behind him. “What is it that we’ll be retrieving and how far away is the location exactly?”

“I am not at liberty to discuss the specifics that you will be retrieving,” he replied. At Jim’s poorly-disguised confused face, he elaborated. “Part of the reason for that decision is for you and Midshipman Blake to use critical thinking and observe your surroundings, as well as learn all you can from the clues we’ll give you later today. As for where you’re going,” the Major flicked his wrist and the hologram expanded further like an unfurling map until finally, it stopped as another spiral galaxy came into view. Shining with pulsing red lights, Jim noted the astronomical distances between the two galaxies. He opened up his mouth in order to ask for another question, but Katherine Blake beat him to it.

“Permission to speak, sir?”

“Permission granted.”

“Is there a specific time frame in which this mission should be completed,” she started, her sharp accent already working on Jim’s nerves. “From what I can discern, this galaxy is more than a fair distance from the Rolouson Galaxy. And, for that matter, what sort of transport would get us there to begin with?”

“The mission, like all missions, should be completed before graduation. In some cases, a day or so later. The Milky Way Galaxy, as the locals have come to call it, is approximately eight jump cycles from us. In regards to how you two will get there, I’ve arranged a Warsloop with a black hole engine. Completely safe, in case you were wondering, and has been used every now and again for various missions. And, as for the exact location of the retrieval sight,” more gestures of his hand instructed the hologram to center on the Milky Way Galaxy and quickly zoom into one of its spirals. The flickering lights of stars, moons, and planets danced around the interior of the office, sparklings pinks and blues, twinkling yellows and greens. Once it was in full view, Jim observed the bright greens of apparent forestry and the deep blues of its vast oceans. Oceans seemed to cover the majority of the planet.

“Earth,” stated the Major. “I believe the planet’s natives have a sense of irony.”

Jim gazed at the planet. There was so much water on the planet, more than he had ever seen on one. He wondered if the natives of the planet lived in the oceans. Where else would they be?

"The planet is located outside the Etherium and all that implies. The Milky Way Galaxy is largely uncharted, but this an academy bent on discovering the undiscovered. Therefore, it shouldn't be too dire of an issue."

After a few moments of the planet hologram rotating in place, the Major turned off the hologram. Eyes, back on his students, he spoke. “This is a difficult mission. Earth is a wild planet with a primitive species. Reports say that they have only recently gotten off the ground. Later tonight, you will be given your papers listing more of the specifics and you will embark on this journey tomorrow at the latest. Estimated time of arrival to Earth will be in less than a week’s time. Good luck, and you are dismissed.”

Jim and Katherine saluted the Major and exited the office in an orderly fashion.

Almost on cue, Jim’s stomach growled not even a second after the door to the office clicked close. He leaned against the nearest wall and ran a hand through his brown hair, thankful that it hadn’t happened inside the office. He could do without the embarrassment.

“So,” he started. He turned to were Katherine was patting her orange hair down, as there was anything wrong with her bun. She glared at him, hazel eyes narrowed. “Earth, huh? You excited?”

“This is a serious assignment, Midshipman Hawkins,” Katherine said. "We don't have any idea about what we're going to face."

“There ain’t nothing you can tell me I don’t already know, Katherine Blake,” Jim said.

"And I wouldn't say that I'm excited," Katherine stated. "I'd say more cautiously optimistic."

"What?"

"It's a graduation mission, James. Not a vacation." Finished with whatever she was doing to fix her hair, Katherine straightened her back and gave Jim a disapproving look. “And you won’t make it to Earth if you starve yourself to an early grave, James.” And, with that, she walked down the hallway. Probably to practice sparring at the amphitheater or something.

“You _do_ care,” Jim called to her down the hall while he knew that she was still within range. One of Katherine’s ears perked up and, all in one movement and without slowing her pace, turned on her heel and flashed him an off-color gesture and spun back, finally exiting the hallway.

Jim smirked. He walked in the other direction towards the stairs leading up to his dormitory, where he knew he had some snacks here and there. It was all a matter of finding them.

With his hand on the rail, he shook his head. “Damn you, Katherine Blake.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The next chapter's gonna be sort of a flashback, so stay tuned if you're reading this!


	3. I’m Gonna Make Believe (Or Annie Knocks A Spaceman Unconscious With Her Car)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What it says on the tin lol
> 
> This is a flashback chapter, just to give a little background to Annie and the mysterious man 
> 
> The song is: I’m Gonna Make Believe (1945, Frankie Carle)

_In 1947, Annie Lea Martel was twenty-three years old, a time she recalled feeling ever so claustrophobic._

_Ever since the War ended two years ago, the world suddenly felt like a much more dangerous place, more so then when her parents were young, or even their parents. People started rationing their flour and sugar, but then they started growing gardens and Annie supposed it wouldn’t be all bad. After all, the growing sprouts of tomatoes and peas surely symbolized life. But then, the boys in her neighborhood started leaving more and more. Pride and worry flavored the farewells and grief washed it all down when those fateful letters were sent back home. And every day and night, Annie and her mother prayed that Abel would come back home._

_When her mother opened her front door to men who were sent to tell them about Abel’s fate, Annie supposed that God couldn’t answer the prayers of every scared mother and sister._

_With no men in the family any longer, and her mom either unwilling or unable to handle the death of her only son, Annie found herself at twenty one juggling two jobs, then three. Sleep became worth more than gold; she would arrive home at six in the morning, greet her mother and kiss her cheek, change into the blue dress required for the grocery store, say goodbye to her mother and kiss her cheek, come back home at two, greet her mother and kiss her cheek, change into the yellow dress and apron required for the diner, say goodbye to her mother and kiss her cheek, and do the same again and again in a suffocating cycle._

_Never much of a quiet girl to begin with, she found it easy--albeit, exhausting--dealing with customers of all types, whether at the grocery store, the diner, or the only cinema in all of Rockwell, the Rockwell Drive-In. There were the old grandmothers who asked her about her day in New England French (and, with all smiles, encouraged her to practice when they heard her own halting attempt). There were the teenagers from the local high school, all bright smiles and curled hair, red pimples and black eyes, loud and boastful and running from the premises when they hadn’t the money to pay for a meal. There were the veterans of the war, young men with old eyes, giving her shaky grins and jumping at someone’s car horn or the sounds of guns from the movie of the night. There were the older men who reeked of entitlement, trying, on more occasions than she could count, to touch her and grope her and follow her home. All these people, she had dealt with and all these people she had been able to talk to and work out issues with. She grew from the mousey greenhorn, who ran into customers and spilled drinks on herself, to the can-do expert who never forgot a face and could run with a tray-full of milkshakes. Between the early mornings to the late nights, from inside the small cinema or the cozy diner or the brightly-lit grocery store, she thought she had seen it all._

_That is, until the rainy April day in 1943 when she accidentally ran her car into a man._

_She had been singing The Andrews Sisters’ “There’s No Business (Like Show Business)” when the man had appeared suddenly. It was as if nothing was there and only a second later, he came into view. She hadn’t noticed anyone walking into the middle of the road, and who would, dark as it was?_

_Maybe I’m just that bad of a driver, Annie thought._

_She slammed her foot on the break and jumped a few inches off her feet. Rolling down her window, she called out to the man. “Hello?” Turning her car off, she fumbled with her seat-belt, her heart pounding in her chest with panic._

_The rain coming in from the window was already beginning to soak her to the skin and once she got her seat-belt off, she tried rolling the window back up to no avail._

_“Damn this old car,” she muttered. The wind blew her now wet brown hair into her mouth. She exited the vehicle, instantly regretful that she hadn’t listened to her mother when she had told her to bring her raincoat with her because of this “feeling” she had. Boo for her, then._

_“Are you alright?” she asked loudly, trying to find the man through the heavy torrent of rain. Then, she noticed a brown figure on the ground, that is a brown suit. She had nothing to compare it to other than, maybe, a winter coat perhaps. But what was someone doing wearing a winter coat in the middle of April?_

_She crouched down to the man, the water from the puddles on the ground soaking through her shoes to her feet. She tried to ignore it the wet feeling. She shook the man’s shoulder. “Hello? Gosh, I hit you bad didn’t I? Typical, huh? Everyone tells me that I’m an awful driver and I go ahead and prove them right._

_The man made no response, motionless on the ground._

_“Of course, you can’t hear me,” Annie shouted over the rain. “But we’re closer to my house than we are to town. I’ll get you fixed up right away and we can get you to town in the morning. By then, it’ll be light and perhaps you’ll even be awake.” She struggled to get a firm grip on one of the man’s arm. He was really heavy and the coat wasn’t helping in the slightest. “That sound dandy to you?”_

_The man made no sound._

_“It’s alright. We’ll get you warmed right up once I drive you home. You’ll catch your death in this weather.”_

_After a ten minute or so struggle, Annie managed to drag and push the man into her mom’s car. She settled him into the passenger seat and prayed that whatever injuries he sustained weren’t life-threatening. It was too dark to tell if he was bleeding and she hadn’t felt around his head or chest; she was just concentrated on getting him into the car and driving him safely home._

_She drove back home carefully, not wanting to take the chance that she might hit someone else. Every other moment, she would glance to her right to make sure that the man was still there, that he was still breathing._

_Eventually, she could make out her house from the lights of her car. She told the unconscious man that she would “be right back” and she ran towards the nearby shed. She opened the door and found what she was looking for, forgoing the use of some kind of light since she knew where everything was even with her eyes closed. She took what it was, a wheelbarrow, in her hands and ran back outside towards her car._

_The man was still there and Annie told herself that she needed to stop thinking that he would disappear._

_“It’ll be quite snug,” she told the man as she maneuvered him into the wheelbarrow. His rear and back sunk into the wheelbarrow while his legs, arms, and head fell out. Annie tucked his arms inside the wheelbarrow as best she could._

_“This is the best way to,” she said. talking more to herself as a sort of reassurance. “I couldn’t carry you all the way to the house. You’re much too heavy. This’ll be much simpler.”_

_Easier said than done, she soon realized. The mud formed from the rain gathered under the wheels of the wheelbarrow and that, combined with the man’s weight, made it a struggle still to push him towards the front door. And the rain was still relentless._

_Still, she managed and it worked out in the end._

_Dripping with water and mud, she entered the front door of her house and was greeted with the smell of corn chowder and baked beans._

_“I’m home, ma!” she called. She rolled the man inside, telling herself she’ll clean the floor when she had time. “Dinner smells swell!”_

_“Annie!” came the raspy voice of her mother. The cold that had been going around was working against her voice. “Close the door before it starts raining inside, dear.”_

_“Will do,” she replied. Nearly tripping over the wheelbarrow as she turned around, she reached for the door handle and pushed against the door with her side, the wind blowing very strongly against her. Once she got the door to close, she realized how cold and dirty she was._

_“Oh,” she mumbled, looking at her muddy legs and shoes and the state of the man in the wheelbarrow. “What a mess.”_

_And all she wanted to do was go to bed. She’d been working for hours._

_But she still needed to care for the man, and there was the looming issue of her mother. Her mother would cause a panic and then feel inclined to call the authorities and there’d be even more of a mess to clean up, so it’d be best, Annie decided, if her mother knew nothing about the man in the muddy and wet brown winter coat._

_“I’ll be heading up,” she said to her mother, who she knew was in the dining room, probably rereading one of the many newspapers around the house. “I’m soaked to the skin from all this rain.”_

_“Now, didn’t I tell you to bring a raincoat along with you, Annie Lea?” her mother’s voice came, all-knowing like a mother’s voice tends to be._

_“Yes, you did,” Annie replied loudly, grunting as she tried to pull the man out the wheelbarrow. There was no way she could roll a wheelbarrow up the stairs and that’s only leave a bigger mess for her to clean up. She wasn’t worried about her mother hearing the sounds of her struggle. Over the past few years, her hearing started to worsen and sometimes Annie was required to yell something a few times for her mother to here._

_It was her eyes, however, that were the problem here. The eyes of Ginette Mirabel Martel never missed much._

_Annie prayed that luck was on her side that night and that her mother would keep her eyes on her newspapers._

_“"152 Killed by Tornado in Texas and Oklahoma,"” Ginette read from the headline from the Lewiston Evening Journal. She tsked loudly. Annie could imagine her shaking her head. “What is the world coming to?”_

_“I have no idea,” Annie replied. She couldn't’ fathom what it would be like to experience a tornado. She’d dealt with blizzards and floods and seemingly neverending rain, but tornados seemed that much more frightening. The man’s foot caught on a chair leg as she dragged him across the floor, knocking it down. Annie froze, irrationally worried even though she knew her mother wouldn’t have heard anything._

_“Terrible,” her mother continued._

_“Awful,” Annie agreed._

_As she dragged the man, she glanced at her mother every so often. They had reached the area where there was an opening in the wall that showed the inside of the dining room. Her mother’s eyes stayed on the newspaper in front of her, but the silence of the room, save the rustling of the newspaper pages, was enough for Annie to hear her heart pound in her ear._

_Eventually, she made it past the opening to the stairs and, while pulling the man up the stairs was difficult in its own way, it was nothing like dragging him in front of her mother. Bump by bump, she pulled the man up until they reached the hallway. The hall bathroom. Then the tub where she collapsed against it in sheer exhaustion._

_“You’re a piece of work, you know that?” She turned around and felt around for the latch to turn the tub water on.  As the tub filled with warm water, she continued. “I’ll wash your hair and your face. I hope that everything under that winter coat is clean because I’m not inclined to take away your decency. I don’t even know you, but obligations still stand, you understand? I still hit you with my car.”_

_The man didn’t answer, of course. Annie sighed loudly. “I’m gonna make believe that this is somehow, someway, the right thing to do.”_

_She got to work, finding a towel in the bathroom chest and grabbed a soap bar from the sink counter. She turned the water off, deciding it was filled enough. Then, she dunked the soap bar into the tub to get it sudsy and began working it through the man’s mud-coated hair. Unsurprisingly, she discovered a hard bump on his head, the cause of all this hullaballoo._

_Her mind went to a memory of Abel. Once when she was a girl and a lot more wild in nature, she had played outdoors with her older brother. It was at the seashore where there had been some rocks, but children are hardly ever concerned with potential danger when all they could think about was the ongoing game of the day. So, although it was terrifying when Abel fell headfirst on a rock and got a bump on his head ad he was unconscious for the rest of the day, he woke not a day later, with a blinding headache but awake all the same._

_That memory gave Annie hope that everything was going to be alright._


	4. The End Of The World (Or Sarah Deserved Better Than She Got)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This fic won't be in chronological order because that's what artists do *jazz hands*
> 
> And, it's a Sarah chapter, because mystery man has a name and it's Jackass

_When Sarah Lloyd was sixteen, she left school to marry the dashing Leland Hawkins._

_She was young, stubborn, and bright and she never wanted to leave school, but there was this shadow that followed her wherever she went. “Responsibility”. The duty of putting others before oneself was how it was defined to her by her father. The forward-thinking-ness of doing the smart thing by marrying someone of a high standing was how it was defined to her by her mother. They were a lowly family, easily forgotten among the many other families of their class living on the Northern Prairie territories on Montressor. They didn’t live on the exciting Southern islands near the planet’s equator, where there was currently an intellectual boom, a Renaissance of sorts (not to mention the warm weather). They didn’t live on the spectacular snow-covered mountaintops in the East where there was some exciting counterculture spreading, along with their strange music and flamboyant religious festivals.They were just...here._

_The Lloyds were simply farmers, farmers who had lived in the Northern Prairie territories as far back as anyone could remember. And as far back as Sarah could remember, she wanted to do something more than that._

_But, the Lloyds were poor. Sustainable, yes. Would never go hungry, yes. But poor, nonetheless._

_Sarah had things she wanted to do, away from the farm. She enjoyed cooking and dreamed of owning a restaurant. She liked reading and dreamed of going to a university. She liked drawing things and dreamed of developing magnificent buildings that would poke holes in the sky. She had so many dreams._

_But as the second oldest child after Reginald (who had joined a merry band of circus performers three years back), she was expected to not shirk her “responsibility” like her no-good brother and secure a future for herself and, by extension, her family._

_Leland Hawkins wasn’t what anyone had in mind and, oh, how the Lloyds hated him._

_He was born in the Northern Prairies, as was everyone else that Sarah knew, but he was always different. The Hawkins family always was, and their eccentricities were easily explained away by the fact that they lived more comfortably than many of the other people in the Prairies. He was loud, he was a menace. He would leave his home for months on end only to come back with different clothes and strange scars. He would speak of the rebellions happening off-planet to the farmers who wanted nothing to do with it. He would get into fights and get on people's nerves._

_He was everything her parents didn’t want in a husband for their daughter. Where they wanted sincere and respectable, he was brash and disreputable. Where they preferred  diligence, he was lackadaisical. Where they wanted them to have a quiet life on the Northern Prairie, he wanted adventure and looked to the mountaintops._

_They wanted Leland to be more like a Lloyd, and Sarah wanted anything but._

_She was impulsive, she recalled. Entered school on a wintery day to announce that today was her last day, and she got married in the next month when the air was warmer and the plants were in dazzling bloom._

_Sarah said her farewells to her parents, her friends, and her four younger siblings, and she and Leland left the Northern Prairies to the roaring hubs of the mountains to find a new life and a new purpose. Leland said he was tired of the war and Sarah said she was tired of the norm._

_They build an inn where they housed guests and cooked, something Sarah delighted in. They met all sorts of people, learned all sorts of tales. They were flying high on the feeling of independence and worked to maintain it._

_And everything was fine until it wasn’t._

_They were young and tried for children. Leland was from a small family, only one sister and two parents, but Sarah was from a larger one. She yearned for someone to look after like she had looked after her own younger siblings. Besides, it was normal for people their age to have children and start growing a family._

_When Sarah was seventeen, she gave birth to Lenora Stella Hawkins. The sun was hot and the air was dry and as soon as she was capable, she called her parents to let them know. For a week, the Hawkinses watched in awe at the life they had created and joked about who she would take after._

_They would never know, however, if Lenora’s small nose would become pointed like Leland’s or flat like Sarah’s, or if her small ears would stick out like Leland’s or not like Sarah’s because she became sick before the week was through. She would cough throughout the night and cough throughout the day and despite all Sarah knew of caring for infants, it wasn’t enough to keep her baby alive._

_They buried her in a casket of flowers behind the inn and they held each other tight._

_Leland searched for work away from the inn and every time it seemed further. He was good at nearly everything he put his mind to, but it was his temperament that was the issue. His temperament was like dust in your eye. If you continued looking forward, or even closed that eye, you would hardly notice there was a problem. But once you began looking around, here and there, the dust become irritating and it’s all you can notice. It’s all you can do to not shout in frustration._

_It began to become clear that they were entirely different people. Sarah couldn’t even conjure up a single reason why they had gotten together, save the abstract conclusion of “adventure”. He fought in partisan groups at the outskirts of the war and knew of grander things and he didn’t want to settle with the simple life of a farmer after all that action. Sarah was bored, as young adults usually were, and wanted to fulfill her parent’s request in the most vexing way. But they didn’t fit. Sarah had enough of adventure, but Leland kept on looking for more, as if there would be something better if only he searched in the right place._

_The Benbow Inn (named after the distinguished Admiral John Benbow, a distant relative of the Lloyds), however, was booming. People came from far and wide to stay and eat at their inn, travelers from distant planets or just from the other side of Montressor. It certainly helped that the Benbow Inn was the only inn for miles around. And although it wasn’t much, Sarah took great pride in it. She painted and carved, dusted and shined. She tried to see the best of the situation, even getting Leland to see things her way every once in a while._

_When Sarah was eighteen, she gave birth to Edwin Orion Hawkins. The sky was dark, save for the bright lights of Crescentia and the lit candles throughout the room, and the air was cool. Her second child was blue and stillborn and Leland hugged her as she cried for hours and hours. He managed the inn while she was still healing._

_They buried their son in a casket of flowers behind the inn next to his sister. Long after Leland went inside, Sarah sat outside on the bench overlooking the mounds of dirt, so desperately sad and unsure where to go from there._

_The luck of the Hawkins couple began to sour._

_Another inn was built nearby, bigger and grander than anything the Benbow Inn had to offer. They began losing all but the most loyal of customers. Granted, how loyal were customers if they’d only been there for a year? Leland traveled off world, coming back with different clothes and terrible scars. He would whimper during the night and fidget during the day. Sarah was always sad, the memories of happiness of moving to the mountains seeming like nothing more than a dream someone else had. She yearned for the children she thought she would never have and she yearned for the husband she thought she knew._

_Leland became more distant and Sarah knew things were troubling him. Things off planet, things about the war. Things she knew next to nothing about because he wouldn’t talk about them and hardly seemed inclined to open up to anyone about it unless he was holding a halfway empty bottle. But Sarah was young and did her end of the talking. She figured that she didn’t need to help a grown man sort through his problems if he wasn’t even going to meet her halfway, so she made plans to visit the Northern Prairie territories, needing to be close to people who wouldn’t expect anything in return._

_And if the Lloyds asked about the couple’s relationship, Sarah danced around the question because she didn’t need or want condescending ‘I told you so’s. She was in mourning and needed anything but scolding._

_She wasn’t planning on returning for another week until Leland appeared at the door of the Lloyd’s household. His hair was combed and his ponytail was neatly tied behind his neck and, save for the scars he could do nothing about, he looked as dapper as could be. He wore his nicest coat and his nicest shoes and an unsure smile. At Sarah’s unamused face, he apologized. He apologized for his distance, for his attitude, for his constant trips to stars knew where. He promised that he would get better, that he would open up, that he would end all correspondence with things related to the war. He promised to be there for her and he was so, so sorry that he wasn’t before._

_And Sarah was young and believed everything he said. She jumped in his arms and cried into his neck and he embraced her and wiped away her tears. Looking back, Sarah believed that he believed everything that he said. That he believed he was being genuine._

_But he was Leland Hawkins and she should’ve known better._

_When Sarah was nineteen, she gave birth to James Pleiades Hawkins. It was raining and the clouds were a light purple. During the next week, Leland and Sarah held their breaths in a cautious optimism, never leaving the boy’s side (something easier to do when they didn’t have such a large number of customers any longer). James would scream all hours of the day and night and Sarah couldn’t understand how she ever got annoyed with her youngest sister’s birth and the noisy days that followed because the screams and cries of her baby James was a beautiful sign that he was still alive._

_And if she ever got annoyed, she would never admit it out loud._

_He grew, as did their inn. The nearby inn was being investigated for rotten food and her previous customers came scrambling back to the cramped interior of the Benbow. Leland kept to his word and was engaged with all things at home and he adored his son._

_James began to very clearly take after her, from her flat nose to her light blue eyes. He delighted in building things and learning about the world around him. But his humor and his smile? That was all Leland._

_Much like Leland, he enjoyed telling stories. His tales were as tall as the Etherium was wide, tales that would sometimes lead to disapproving letters written by his instructors from the schoolhouse he attended. Many of the stories involved pirates and he was always asking questions about his Great-great-great (deep breath) many-times-great uncle Admiral John Benbow, who wasn’t a pirate but still sailed the Etherium in search of adventure._

_As a younger person, Sarah might’ve looked at the idea of adventure with excitement, much as her son did now. But adventure came at a price because when you wanted to be done with adventure, sometimes adventure wasn’t done with you._

_Adventure wasn’t done with Leland._

_The wars for and against the Federation still waged on and Leland found himself being roped back in. Was it his duty? Had he bitten off far more than he could chew? Did he have obligations to help those he had left behind._

_Sarah didn’t know because Sarah was young and family was far more important than anything going on so far away from Montressor you needed a ship to sail off and find out._

_And they fought. They fought once they were sure James, or Jim as he had started calling himself, was out of hearing range. They threw words around. The Federation, he would say. Our home, she would say. The war would spread, he would say. Our family, she would say._

_That funny word “responsibility” would show up more often than not and each interpretation of the word held merit, but neither party was willing to yield to the other._

_Jim began to notice. How could he not? As quiet as they tried to make their arguments, words louder than the others would find Jim and he became worried. His stories became shorter and his voice became smaller. Leland became absorbed by his “responsibility” and his relationship with Jim began to dwindle further. He settled for a simple ruffling of Jim’s hair when he used to spend actual time with him and Sarah hated him for it._

_When Sarah was twenty-eight, she and Leland had the fight of their lives. She became full aware of the promises he couldn’t keep and she cursed his name while he cursed hers right back. Responsibility, responsibility, responsibility. She despised the word. And one day, he simply left. Sarah sat at a table, sobbing into her hands while she heard the awful sounds of Jim’s feet running down the stairs and out the door. She heard him scream Leland’s name and her heart broke._

_When Jim ran back inside, he searched the house, hoping, praying, that there was some clue left behind to answer why. Some note left behind to tell him something, to explain where he was going, when he was coming back. He didn’t find anything._

_“He didn’t even say goodbye,” Jim said, his eyes red and shiny with tears._

_“I know,” Sarah said._

_“He left and didn’t even say goodbye!” Jim said, louder this time while crying even more._

_“I know,” Sarah said._

_And Jim held onto Sarah and Sarah held onto her nine-year-old son right back, his wet cheek pressed against her neck. Jim was so young, so very young, and Sarah wanted nothing more than to make it so this never happened._

_But it did._

_And Sarah was getting older and less naïve. And while she hoped that Leland would return, she decided that she would move on and she and her son would become the better for it._

_And become the better for it, they did._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next will be a Jim chapter because it has to be in order for the Hogarth chapter to make sense


	5. The Young Ones (Or Sometimes School Ropes You Into The Weirdest Shit)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> And, they're off.
> 
> Katherine and Jim are en route to Earth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, I'll probably rewrite all of this eventually, or at least add to it because sometimes they way I see things in my head isn't how it shows up on this computer, but it's whatever.
> 
> The song is "The Young Ones" by Cliff Richards

The week before the pre-graduation missions started off well enough.

Jim reconciled the inevitability of spending close quarters with Katherine Blake (for a time longer than he wouldn’t have wished upon anyone, much less himself) with the fact that once it was done, it was done. He’d never have to see Katherine Blake ever again if he so chose. That thought stayed with him as they trained together, ate together, and studied together in preparation for the mission.

Currently, they were in the school’s basement library, sifting through dusty old records because Katherine had the notion that there might be more information about the star system that Earth called its home. Jim had the same idea, but he wasn’t going to admit it. Many a time Jim and Katherine had similar ideas, sometimes the same idea, which would be something worth laughing about if they weren’t so annoyed by each other’s presence at any given time.

Most of the records in the basement weren’t holograms and were, in fact, old fashioned scrolls and physical documents, a reminder of how old this institution was. Katherine made a snide remark about “paper cuts” that had the same cadence of someone saying a joke, and Jim was unsure if it was supposed to be funny or not but didn’t care enough to ask.

Most of the information they had found on Earth was compiled by an independent expedition team a while ago and what they found was interesting. It resided in a fairly new star system; Earth was the only populated planet in a system that contained around eleven. The planet’s moon had been part of Earth billions of cycles ago and is traveling further away every year. The larger and more gassier planets were apparently just recently discovered (and by “recently”, that meant around more than one hundred cycles ago) by the planet's inhabitants. They believed that canals were on their moon. There was all this space and only one planet with intelligent life.

As someone who had grown up in a galactic community that spanned star systems, It seemed awfully lonely.

Katherine didn’t say how she felt about it. He didn’t feel inclined to ask.

During meals, Katherine would leave to who knows where, and Jim would head elsewhere. They were already spending so much time choking on old dust in the cellar, they might as well have time to eat in relative peace.

Then they would train with their squad, sleep, and the cycle would begin again. And everything was going fine until Katherine pulled him aside the day before they were to set off on this journey that would determine if they would graduate.

“Do you have a moment?” she asked, her grip around his wrist tight and bordering on painful. The hot liquid he was drinking, one he had gotten from a faucet in the mess hall before the crowds of students rushed in for breakfast, shook and spilled against his chest. He winced against the burning sensation and grimaced at the wet feeling.

He cursed and leveled with Katherine. “It’s too early for this, Katherine. It’s way too early”

“This is important.”

“And so is uniform regulation and now I’m going to need a new shirt. And a new drink.” Jim started walking in the direction of his dorm. He had packed all the essentials for the mission ahead of time, but there were still the last moment arrangements he needed to do here and there.  “And you’re getting me the new drink. You’re also buying me a new shirt.”

“I will not buy you a new shirt.”

“New drink then. I don’t like sweet things and it needs to be hot.”

"I will not buy you a drink, Midshipman Hawkins."

“Midshipman?” Jim turned and gave Katherine an annoyed expression, standing stiffly and awkwardly because of the cooling liquid spreading on his chest. He gestured at the empty space around them. The majority of the students were either in class or training. There was no chance of anyone else coming anywhere close to them. “There’s no one else here. We can drop formalities, Katherine.”

While her posture was as formal as ever, something in Katherine’s face seemed to relax, although it was still somewhat pinched with worry. “Jim,” she said, and although the tone of her voice was as serious as ever, what bothered Jim was her face.

Katherine’s expression made Jim nervous. In all his years at this institution, he had never seen Katherine Blake look worried. And if she ever was, he always assumed that she would lock her outwards emotions away just as strategically as she did anything else. And yet, here it was. In the creases of her golden eyes, in the clench of her jaw. That she was worried made him worried and that was unnerving and there couldn’t be a good reason.

“What’s bothering you, Katherine?” Jim asked softly, the wet feeling of his shirt momentarily forgotten. “What’s going on?”

“Jim,” Katherine started, and before she continued, a voice from the other end of the hallway called to them. It was the voice of Fidelia Soo, a fellow Midshipman two years behind them. She was blue and she had a lisp. Jim wasn’t sure why that was the only thing he could associate with Soo, but it probably had something to do with a presentation she had done on some newly discovered species of aquatic creatures on one of the ocean moons of Montressor. He was sure the presentation was important, but all he could focus on was her lisp.

After she greeted them again, Soo said, “Both of you are needed in the courtyard. Major Dunn wants to show off to the visiting royal family.”

“For the coronation, right?”

“Yes,” Soo answered. “Hurry up with it, yeah. Major Dunn abhors lateness.”

Katherine coughed and Jim cracked a smile. They both had two more years of experience with Major Dunn over Soo. They knew what set him off and they’d both seen him blow up at a late student. “Don’t worry about it, Soo.”

“Oh and Jim,” Soo said before leaving the hallway. “You have a big, um, stain on your shirt. Fix it, yeah?” With that, she spun on her heels and headed out the hallway.

When she was gone, Jim addressed Katherine again. “Katherine, what were going to-”

“I’ll tell you at a later time, Jim. Change your shirt.”

And just like that, Katherine was back to her normal stiff-upper-lip self and was heading to the courtyard. As if nothing had happened and there wasn’t anything bothering. She was back to playing her role.

Well, two could play at that game. “You still owe me a drink!” he shouted down the hall. He cursed quietly at his shirt and went back to change.

But something was bothering Katherine and he needed to know what it was.

* * *

 

Katherine wasn’t able to get back to Jim until they were already sailing away.

The last day was full of ceremonial rubbish and procedural irrelevancies. Jim loved the institution he was a part of, but he could do without the traditional bullshit. It took up time and the longer time passed, the more nervous Jim became. He wanted to be leaving right now, not sitting in an auditorium listening to how great his year was.

Of course, he appreciated the accomplishment he and his mates had achieved, but he just wanted to get going. He didn’t want to be sitting under the unbearably hot sun hearing the same speech every student always heard before the pre-graduation mission.

“As you embark on these voyages,” Major Dunn was saying from the front, “you will test each other as, not only shipmates, but people. You will learn to trust your instincts and apply all the skills you have learned over the course of your years here.”

“I can’t wait to use my skills of scrubbing latrines,” quietly joked one of the students sitting in front of Jim. A few students laughed softly around him, along with a whispered “Hear, hear!”.

Katherine gave a strange sigh next to him. Not that Jim cared, but was she trying to cover up a laugh herself? Jim hoped he was right.

“I believe that all of you sitting before me today are capable of more things than you can imagine if only you believe in yourselves,” Major Dunn continued, “However, you will face hardships, you will face conflict, you will face things you cannot imagine. Be that as it may, I have faith in the successes of each and every one of you. There are great things waiting for you in your future.”

 _Now, you listen to me, James Hawkins_ , Jim heard the familiar voice in his head, _you got the makings of greatness in ya…_

Jim let himself smile at the words. It was going to soon be time to put that to the test.

Once the speech was done, Jim dodged the crying students and band playing its tunes. He headed to the mailroom and pulled an envelope out of his pocket and chucked it into a slot in the wall. He walked to his mailbox and a light scanned his eye before opening it, displaying an envelope inside. He leaned against a wall and cleanly tore it open, smiling at the words “Dear Son”. His mother was excited to hear about his mission and couldn’t wait to hear all the stories about it.

“James,” came the voice of Katherine. Jim looked up, finishing a paragraph about where his mother detailed a new story about the funny lady who owned a flower shop across the way. Apparently, the lady, Adella, was friends with a famous actor performing in a traveling play. The play was one of his mother’s favorites, and the two of them were able to get close seats, and meet the actors besides. She sounded so happy.

“Katherine?”

She nodded at the envelope Jim held. “Who’s that from?”

“My mother,” Jim answered. “But that’s not why you’re here, huh? You’re here to tell me that I need to quicken my pace and get suited up, am I right?”

“You’re halfway there,” Katherine said, giving an amused smile. “You do need to quicken your pace and get suited up. Time is of the essence.”

“Uh-huh,” Jim said, continuing to read the letter.

“I also wanted to let you know that I still need to talk to you about that important thing.”

“What important thing?”

“We got interrupted, you see,” Katherine explained.

“We did,” Jim agreed.

“It has come to my attention that I won’t be able to tell you while still on Montressor. Safest time to fill you in would be after we have left the Etherium on route to Earth.”

“Katherine,” Jim started, folding the letter back up, “I don’t mean to be rude, but, uh, what in the world are you talking about?”

“I’ll tell you once we’ve left the—”

“Once we left the Etherium, yeah,” Jim interjected. “Uh, who brought this, whatever it is, to your attention.”

“Myself, James.”

“Oh, ok,” Jim nodded. “That explains _everything_ , you know?”

“Don’t make jest, Hawkins,” Katherine said, her voice steely. “There is something strange about our mission and I cannot discuss it with you hear while there are prying ears. I know exactly what I’m about and I won’t be talked down to.”

“Ok,” Jim sighed. He placed the envelope inside his jacket. “I’ll see you at the dockyard.”

* * *

 

The dockyard was full of students leaving in their transports. The vehicle that Katherine was going to be in, the Warsloop, docked at the far right of the dockyard. It gleamed red and gold under the sun and, although somewhat old, still was able to perform as well as it did during its heyday. It was large enough for two occupants, along with space underneath large enough for such leisurely activities like sleeping in such a way you’d wake up with a cramp. There was storage inside for clothes and documents and food for their journey, along with two escape pods if need be.

“Well,” Katherine stated as she climbed up to the deck, “it’s certainly quaint.”

Like all the other students, she’d had a hand at navigating a Warsloop. While it wasn’t her favorite type of transport, it always struck her as a funny thing.  It was one of the very few types of vehicles that were made to leave the Etherium to places unknown, but you couldn’t tell just by looking. It just looked like any other type of ship, albeit smaller.

She had never left her star system before and, although she’d rather die than admit it, she was plenty nervous.

“Quaint, huh,” Jim said from behind her. Katherine stepped aside to let him on and she went back to looking around. Finding the stairs, she walked down below the ship. Near the back, she saw the storage containers and began to unpack her luggage and organize everything in the tiny space allotted. James followed quickly behind “Nothing like what you’re used to, huh Blake?”

Katherine sighed. “It’s just a word, James.”

James didn’t answer, but Katherine had enough of the conversation. “Quickly unpack and we can get ready to go.”

James joined her in the back where the storage was. He opened his storage and simply placed his luggage inside before closing it behind it. At Katherine’s face, he shrugged. “It’s just extra work for no reason.”

“James,” Katherine began, rolling her eyes.

“Alright, let’s get going!” he cheered. There was an undercurrent of restlessness in his voice and, if Katherine learned anything from being in close quarters with James all these years, it was that he didn’t like waiting for anything.

She and James headed forward and she began to steer.

The Warsloop jerked a little, typical for a ship getting ready for flight. And up they went.

Katherine’s hands gripped the wheel and she steered it to the left, towards the direction the Etherium would eventually end. While doing so, her feet began to leave the deck and her clothes began to feel loose. She looked around to see where James was. At the moment, he was fiddling with the map, seemingly unaware at the fact that Katherine was floating. Of course he was wearing his anti-gravity shoes. She should’ve remembered to put them on this morning.

“Hit the anti-gravity!” Katherine shouted over the increasing sound of the wind.

She heard James run to press the anti-gravity and Katherine landed on her feet, wincing slightly at the impact. Over the wind, she heard James laugh which got louder.

“I have no idea what could possibly be funny right, now James,” Katherine said.  She looked down and watched the grey and silver mountain ranges of Montressor become smaller and smaller. Off to worlds unknown.

“C’mon, Katherine,” James shouted from above. Katherine looked behind and saw him fiddling with the masts. “Where’s your sense of fun?” He was silent for a while as he finished doing something. “How far are we from the edge of the Etherium.”

 _So impatient_ , she thought. “About an two hours or so,” Katherine replied. The sky around them was darker now, seeming even darker because of the green glow of the map surrounding the ship that she turned on, and she could see ships in the distance and the moons of Montressor in front of her. She remembered the trips she would have with her father, traveling in the Etherium, waving to ships next to them and watching the Great Whales pass by in all their majesty. The Etherium was wide and vast, colorful and breathable, full of wonders and terrors unknown.

Now she would be leaving it.

 _All the documents and books in the world couldn’t possibly prepare me for a cold and unfeeling vacuum, unbreathable and dark_ , she thought.

James hung around the masthead for the next hour while Katherine steered the ship, watching the bright green navigation that surrounded the ship. She was grateful that James didn’t ask to steer the ship because she couldn’t trust him enough to not get distracted while trying to complete the task at hand. He was an excellent student, a brilliant Midshipman, but he let his thoughts run away with him too much and they couldn’t afford that while leaving the Etherium. Apparently it was dangerous and you had to do things a specific way as to not face devastation.

She was lying to herself, to be completely honest. She did trust James; she had spent all these years in one of his units. She just really, really wanted to do this herself.

She flicked a switch on the wheel to the fastest speed, or as fast as it would allow before activating the black hole engine. Black hole engines were made specifically by and for members of Her Majesty’s Navy and were to be done in wide open spaces away from civilians, something that wouldn’t be an issue once they left the Etherium.

Of course, those accounts might have been played up, as the average person enjoys the thrilling and dramatic when it comes to a story. Dull doesn’t sell.

Time passed and she heard James sing a shanty from the mast, something notoriously catchy and Katherine knew that it would get stuck in her head for days to come. The further they traveled, the less amount of ships they saw and planets began to vanish more and more. As they traveled further, they came across some law enforcement who asked for papers and intent before they cleared them. Once they were checked off, they continued. The duo traveled ever nearer to the Edge of the Etherium.

Katherine saw the Edge of the Etherium before she knew what it was. She heard James whisper a small “Wow” from above and she had to agree with him.

Katherine hadn’t realized how colorful the Etherium was before she saw the edge of it. On the horizon, the breathable purple Etherium was fading into an endless pitch black, as if it was dissolving into nothing. The edge looked like bubbly foam from their distance, pale in color before dispersing into the vacuum. It was like looking at the edge of a cliff, and all the fear that implied. You knew that once you stepped off, it was a terrible and tragic journey down. That was the reason that no one was really allowed at the Edge and there were countless signs and warnings that were told to all members of the star system. You could be jailed if you even ventured too near it, not that no one ever tried. But if laws and threats of imprisonment wasn’t enough to deter the average adrenaline junkies, it was the fact that so many who journeyed out never came back.

Katherine would never admit that she was scared, but she was.

“Okay, okay,” she whispered to herself so she wouldn’t lose her nerve. “Ready the sails! Run them closed under the poles and secure them tight!”

“Aye-aye!” James yelled over the wind, before going off to do close them.

“Prepare the field!”

James activated the Energy Field. The wind silenced to a whisper and a light red-purple hue enveloped the ship.

The Edge of the Etherium loomed even closer. It was terrifying.

“Katherine?”

She breathed in deeply and tried to steady her fingers. In seconds, she tried to remember everything she had learned at Port Ivy.

“Katherine!”

“Yes, ok. Latch yourself to the deck, Midshipman Hawkins,” she shouted. One hand still on the wheel, she used her other hand to expertly tie a knot around her waist and yanked it tight against the deck. “Black hole engine activating in less than ten seconds!”

“Alright!” James shouted. The closer they got to the edge, the louder it became, despite the Field blocking out most of the noise. It was like a crackling sound, like raw electricity and the most violent wind she had ever heard in her life. Without the Field, she knew, she just knew, that the Warsloop, James, and herself would be ripped to shreds.

“Readying!” she shouted and the sound of the black hole engine below them began vibrating and static began to fill the inside of the ship. The fur on Katherine’s skin began rising and she risked a glance at James and she raised an eyebrow at James’ brown hair sticking up at all directions. She wasn’t totally surprised to see his reaction at this part of their journey. He had always been a thrill-seeker and this was no exception. A large smile was on his face and it looked like it was taking everything inside him to not whoop in delight. He stood in the masthead and held on with all his might.

“And…now!” she yelled, and the Warsloop lurched forward at a terrible speed. The loud sounds became even louder and the foam that made up the Edge looked quite electric up close. Flashing colors surrounded them and the ship rattled and jerked around. She gripped her hands further on the wheel as it tossed and turned. The Edge seemed endless, like they were fighting against an uncontrollable and unending storm. There was thunder, there was lightening, and what was left of the Etherium looked like a sea of fire that reached into eternity.

Lightning flashed and the sound was unbearable and frightening, and she likened it to a growl.

Fingers gripped tight against the wheel, she steadied herself and growled right back.

“Three!” she shouted.

“Two!” James yelled from above.

The static on the ship’s deck became thick as jam and she knew that the voyage of her life was ready to begin.

“One!”

And the sound outside the Field dimmed to a whisper and the flashing lights faded away. The ship stilled and in the middle of the Edge of the Etherium, a darker-than-black circle opened before them and the ship passed through it without a hitch.

All of a sudden, it was over. Katherine opened her eyes, hadn’t realized she had closed them, and looked around at an unfamiliar space, stars twinkling all around in a sky as black as tar. None of the deep blues and purple of the Etherium that she called home.

She exhaled, grinning.

_We did it._

James laughed above her and she heard him climb down and walk around on the deck, still laughing in relief. She turned to him and they threw their arms around each other, shaking with delight. Neither pulled away too quickly because there was no reason to.

They eventually pulled apart, awkward smiles on their faces. James rubbed the back of neck before heading below to “document”, as he put it. As he left, Katherine walked to the edge of the deck, and leaned her elbows on it, just looking around her. The vacuum was empty of ships, of distant Great Whales and Great Rays. There were no bustling sounds of a populated space and their destination was hardly the size of a speck on the horizon. James had confessed to herd= days before that he considered such an area of the universe rather lonely. Katherine hadn’t any opinion then, but now she had to disagree as she looked around her.

There was so much to discover.

* * *

 

It wasn't too soon before Katherine began to explain what was bothering her.

“What we’re looking for is something of a conspiracy.”

“A conspiracy?” James said, looking mildly interested. You could never tell with James. Many times, he would act a certain way while meaning something entirely different. It was exhausting trying to keep up. “Pray tell.”

“Operation Automata,” Katherine said. “A long since defunct course of action by the Ar’Bogg Republic against the United Galactic Federation. It was one of their more exorbitant undertakings that they tried brushing under the rug. Many in the Federation deny that it even existed.”

“You’re losing me,” James said, but at least he now looked genuinely interested. “Operation Automata. What does that mean?”

“Operation Automata was envisioned by the late Dr. Ed Mond. He was a high-ranking doctor in the Federation’s engineering field. It was the idea that you could fight the enemy using non-sentient lifeforms, thus dramatically decreasing the number of casualties in the war. This idea took the form of creating an army of giant metal robots to do the bidding of the Federation.”

James’ eyebrows furrowed. “I don’t remember hearing anything about an army of metal giants. But I’m guessing that was the whole point.”

Katherine nodded.

“There’s a “but” in there somewhere, huh?”

“Yes,” Katherine replied. “But, Dr. Mond, and the various officials in the Federation, didn’t think that these giants would have the capacity to think. It was a failing of Dr. Mond’s own design. He wanted them to be intelligent, but obedient. But any intelligent being will eventually develop the ability to think and question.” She paused before saying the most damning thing. “In essence, the Federation destroyed Nagbu.”

Nagbu was a rocky and moonless planet, covered in ice and rock and, while never the most populated planet, it still was home to millions of people. The planet wasn’t in the same star system as Montressor, but it was still part of the greater galactic community, home to numerous ancient traditions and a rich history all their own. Unfortunately, it was also the setting of a large theater of the war against the Federation, housing many people who supported the Ar’Bogg Republic and people who supplied weapons for them. It was the scene of so much destruction that many natives of Nagbu moved away to nearby planets. Sometime many years back, it was said that the Ar’Bogg supporters turned on the planet for whatever reason and killed every remaining Nagbuvian on the planet with a poisonous gas bomb of some sort. The reports were never in detail and the Federation signed into galactic law that no one could venture anywhere near the Nagbuvian airspace else they would face prison time. It was said that the law was created because of the poisonous gas and how potent it still was. The Federation did their own investigation and everyone in the greater galactic community mourned the planet and moved on. It was sad to have a planet full of people snuffed out, but that was war and they were told to not dwell on it. And not dwell on it, most people did.

“What do you mean, the Federation destroyed Nagbu?” James demanded.

“I was doing research. Heavy research into files and databases and even records buried under miles of rubbish,” Katherine explained. “From what I could piece together, and you can read what I saved, the Federation used the giants to try and attack several communities on Nagbu where there were suspected Ar’Bogg terrorists and terrorist supplies. However, once the robots were there, they somehow stopped responding to their instructions and destroyed everything and everyone indiscriminately and without any sense of mercy.”

James eyes were wide. “Then what, what does that have to do without mission? And why would the Federation execute a large-scale attack on Nagbu without testing the giants out first?”

“They did test them out. Several times, apparently,” Katherine said, remembering everything she read and watched. “They tested them in every way they knew how, but something went wrong when they were eventually on the field. As for what this has to do with our mission, apparently some of the Giants just escaped termination once the Federation figured out what was going on.”

“Escaped termination?”

“They were made to be indestructible, so in the process of firing everything they had at the robots, the robots could just reassemble. It was probably their pride that led them to believe that they could handle whatever happened, but that’s simply my own opinion And in doing so, Nagbu became a desolate wasteland.” Katherine stifled a shiver, remembering all the images of what remained of Nagbu. All the death. “But the giants could only reassemble so many times. Some got the jist and flew away with all the power they had.” She shook her head. “They were so intelligent that they understood, at least in part, the concept of total destruction and they didn’t want to be killed. Or as close as they could associate with the idea of death.”

James nodded, waiting for her to get to the point.

“One of them somehow flew out of the Etherium and landed on Earth.”

"One of them?"

"That's what the reports said," Katherine said simply. "Others escaped, but I'm not sure where they all are."

“But, why?” James asked. He began pacing on the deck. “Why send us to go and retrieve the missing giant? Is it to keep it under wraps?”

“That seems to be the case,” Katherine replied. She clasped her hands together behind her. “But the Federation doesn’t want us to know that. I looked into it because there were just little things here and there that weren’t adding up. And I couldn’t say it while we were still in the Etherium, much less Montressor. The Federation has eyes everywhere, James, and I wasn’t going to let it slip that I knew what they were about.

James’ eyes were wide, deep in thought. He slipped his hands into his coat pockets. “And they’re worried about the Giant wreaking havoc on Earth.” At Katherine’s silence, he continued. “And they don’t want to send fleets to Earth and disrupt the development of the planet. That, and it’s out of their jurisdiction, I suppose.” As James said “jurisdiction”, his mouth twisted as if he bit into something sour.

“We’re the top students, doing this to graduate,” Katherine said. “Tidying up the mess they left behind.”

“But how do they know it’s on Earth anyway? It’s been years since Nagbu was destroyed. Why now?”

“That, I don’t know.” Katherine let her eyes wander over the cold dark void around them, spotted here and there by tiny stars. “I’ll figure it out eventually. We’re on a strict time frame.” She pulled her eyes away and looked at James. “Let’s head below and get something to eat. I have it on autopilot for a while, and our radar doesn’t show anything nearby for a long while.”

James nodded and the two of them began walking towards the stairs. Before they got there, James gave Katherine a curious smile and said, “I pegged you all wrong, Katherine Blake. You’re more interesting than I thought.”

Katherine rolled her eyes in response.

* * *

Sooner than they expected, they arrived at Earth.

It was a mix of plain enthusiasm and the fact that Katherine, much like Jim, felt a sense of adventure and didn’t want to just wait longer than they had to.

They darted past all sorts of things, gas giants and rock asteroids, sailed close to a comet and stargazed at all hours. A red planet darted by and a dot of blue on the horizon grew larger and larger by the minute until it was all they could see in front of them.

“It’s beautiful,” Katherine said.

“It’s blue,” Jim said.

They took a day to prepare to go down there. They decided what they would bring. A helmet, in case they couldn’t breathe. Provisions, in case they couldn’t eat the food there. A translator in the ear, because they wouldn’t understand the locals for some time. The early explorers documented their journey to this strange planet, including many customs (sure to be outdated by now), but they lacked details of the scientific nature.

“You’re going down first,” Katherine stated, gathering up the things Jim would need when he went down. Their ship had glowed red as it pinpointed the area that the Giant had last been (Jim had even, seemingly on an impulse, grabbed the wheel and maneuvered the ship into doing a somewhat-graceful loop-the-loop). Granted, it seemed like the Giant had been many places. There was some faint traces of radiation the ship could detect and, using its monitors, Katherine was able to see that the Giant had landed on Earth in water, stayed in one particular area of land, left the atmosphere of Earth, only to return and land elsewhere. However, the previous place that it had been appeared to be more densely populated, so there was more information that could be gathered.

“I'll go first,” Jim had volunteered himself.

Katherine scoffed, but didn't argue. “Whatever happened to teamwork?”

“We have all the teamwork we need, Katherine.”

“There's going to be a storm while you're landing,” she pointed out, proving this with her holo device. “The conditions aren't optimal.”

“It's now or never.”

“It could be a dangerous.”

So, maybe she argued a little.

“Or, it could be fine.” James replied. He opened the door to the pods and threw his bags in there. “Just guide me down.” As he settled inside, he continued. “Besides, someone needs to stay up here and do the research. You love that junk.”

“Fine.” Katherine rolled her shoulders and watched him zip up his heavy suit. They needed to be prepared for temperature changes and they didn’t know what to expect. “I’ll contact you once you’ve landed, understand?”

“Affirmative," James said, giving her a lazy salute. 

“And James,” Katherine said as he began to close the door.

He looked up, hands still strapping himself in. “Yeah?”

She felt her face twitch for a few moments, as if a flurry of expressions ran across her face, unable to settle on just one. It lasted only a few seconds, however. It quickly changed back to a soft seriousness. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

“C’mon, Katherine,” Jim groaned, closing the door. “What do you take me for?”

The pod began to vibrate and move downwards.

“Alright, Jim. You heard the lady,” she heard him say over their radio communication. “Don’t do anything stupid.”


	6. You Make Me Blue (Or Hogarth And Kimo Ditch Homework To Go UFO Watching)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's song is from "You Make Me Blue" by the Gents
> 
> Also, I make 2 seperate references to 2 movies in here. If you guess them, kudos to you!
> 
> Enjoy!

Tuesday came and then Wednesday, but Hogarth and Kimo were no closer to writing the paper. That isn’t to say that they hadn’t started, but every first page was later discarded because of confusions from one end or frustration from the other. The boys’ minds couldn’t focus on the paper when summer was just around the corner. So, they decided to skip the paper for now and study for their last math test at the local bakery.

Hogarth ordered his regular, two Boston Creme doughnuts and a glass of Coke while Kimo scoured the menu in order to formulate a new combination he hadn’t tried yet. Despite all his claims that the food of Hawai’i was infinitely better, he was always worried that, at any time, his dad would get another job offer back home at Kaua'i and he would’ve missed out on some “good old-fashioned Nor’easter cuisine”. It always had to be something different and Hogarth always felt obligated to exaggerate the amount of time he spent staring at the menu.

“C’mon, Kimo, my clothes are going out of style,” Hogarth groaned, swinging his legs under the tall table that he and Kimo sat at. His mom used to work here, according to the people in town. She had stopped working here before he was born, but they still stopped by whenever they had the time. He liked the red-checkered curtains and the glass jars of candy behind the counter. He liked the tall chairs that allowed him space to swing his legs back and forth, which he did in order to kick Kimo’s shin under the table.

Without missing a beat, Kimo said, “They already are, Hogarth.”

Hogarth rolled his eyes and dug through his backpack, pulling out pencils and notebooks and a textbook filled with concepts that he still wasn’t totally clear on, like matrices and abstract algebra. What was the point of having abstract stuff in math? It didn’t make sense. At least fractions and squares made sense, but once imaginary numbers got introduced in the middle of the year, he understood at that very moment why he much preferred science class.

Hogarth was pretty sure it didn’t make too much sense to Kimo either, but the guy was too proud to reveal otherwise.

While they waited for their meals (Kimo had chosen a milk-cream strudel and a cream soda float), Kimo started rambling about how close they were to being seniors in high school and that _finally_ , they had seniority rights on different things at school, that the underclassmen would have to eventually fall in line behind them. They would have dibs on, not only signing up for the glasses they wanted, but also the water fountain in between classes. Things were looking up.

Somehow, between when Hogarth’s meal got there first and they still sat waiting for Kimo’s, Kimo’s began ranting about his family back in Hawai’i and how he had no idea how he had managed to adapt to the “god-awful” weather in Maine. Apparently it never got cold back at home in Kaua'i and that the first sweater he had ever bought was right here in Rockwell. And somehow, that started him going on about how easier it was to see the stars at his old place and what a place that was. And he bet that Hogarth didn't know the best places to do over there, and that there were competitions for things he hadn't even heard of. And on it went, just like many things once Kimo got started on it.

“Jeez, Kimo,” Hogarth said. Even after years of friendship, he could still be in awe in how fast, and how terribly geeky, Kimo’s rants could be. “You gonna be a professional mouth when you grow up?”

“Naw, whaddya mean?” Kimo asked, prematurely cutting off his rant, genuinely confused about why Hogarth would ask that. “Why?” At that moment, the waitress, named Lorraine, came with a tray carrying Hogarth’s order and, with an assurance that Kimo’s order would come straightaway “okay?”, she left to go back to the kitchen.

“I mean,” Hogarth started, picking up a doughnut. He took a bite out of one and licked up the cream at the corner of his mouth. “Nevermind,” he finished. He knew that it wasn’t worth it to talk about how much Kimo talked because that’d be hypocritical. He talked just as much. He decided to talk about something else. “What’re you gonna do once you graduate high school?”

"This again?"

"Shut up."

“Marry Caroline Whittaker,” Kimo answered without the slightest hesitation.

“ _You’re_ gonna marry Caroline Whittaker?” Hogarth asked, incredulous. “Isn’t she a senior right now? About to graduate in a few weeks?”

“She’ll wait,” Kimo assured him. “I’ve seen the way she looks at me.” He laughed as Hogarth playfully kicked him under the table. “I think I might be her one and only.” He paused. “Ain’t actually talked to her, but there’s a real plan, honest.”

And homework was swiftly abandoned because high school boys really like talking about the girls they like.

They left the bakery with unfinished homework and ink-stained notebooks in tow. It started to drizzle, so the boys ran to the sidewalk with trees above it so they could dodge the rain for as long as they could. As they walked down the sidewalk, a fire truck blazed down the road, blaring its horn as it went. Its red lights flashed and danced over the storefronts of downtown Rockwell.

 _Red_ , Hogarth thought.

“I wonder what’s on fire,” Kimo said, removing his hands from over his ears. Hogarth hadn’t noticed him covering them.

“Red,” Hogarth muttered.

“Yeah, fire engines are red now, Hogarth. You didn't hear?"

“No, not that.” Hogarth shook his head. “There was some red light in the sky this morning. Just kind of...frozen. I was watching it with my telescope.”

“Like a satellite?”

“No, I’m pretty sure it did a loop-the-loop.”

“Not a satellite?”

“That, and it was red. Like, bright red. It was so still. Satellites, at least, orbit the Earth. It didn’t seem like this one was.”

Kimo stopped walking and stared at Hogarth, chewing the inside of his lip in thought. “Well, you know what this calls for?”

Hogarth grinned and Kimo returned the expression. The next word they said in unison, and came with it all the feelings of adventure and mystery.

“Stakeout!”

* * *

Stakeouts were exciting. In their second to last year of junior high, the year that Kimo moved to Rockwell, there was news of robbers hiding in the old mill. Curfews were instated. Fear and panic ran amok (or, as much as they could in a town that had an encounter with a giant metal man). The robbers were said to have robbed many homes of the elderly, so the first thing that came to the minds of those two twelve-year-olds was to go spend the night at the old mill, bringing supplies and snacks of course, and see what was really going on. They hid under the cover of night and their rustling sounds were dampened by the falling rain. And they did see robbers, but two twelve-year-olds against three grown, and potentially armed, men wasn’t a conflict either of them were inclined to encounter, despite how brave they professed themselves to be. So, they snuck away the next morning. It was the beginning of a history of overnight stakeouts and an interesting tradition in their friendship. Sometimes, they snuck out to watch a meteor shower. Once, they snuck out during Halloween to see if ghosts really were haunting Old Michaud’s house. A few times, and they were none too proud to admit, they even snuck out to spy on some of the girls they liked at home, Caroline Whittaker included.

They weren’t so much “stakeouts” as they were, “sneaking off and about with binoculars in the night”, but “stakeouts” had a much better ring to it.

For this particular stakeout, snacks were brought by Hogarth and other miscellaneous supplies were lugged along by Kimo. Things like 7-UP, Twinkies, and Frosty O’s were essentials since they’d probably miss dinner. The two of them were mere observers of some weird spectacle, not scientists. Try and tell Kimo that, though.

“We need the paper to write things down. It’s part of the scientific method,” Kimo argued as Hogarth went through his backpack. They were both in Kimo’s room instead of Hogarth’s because Hogarth knew as soon as he entered the front door of his house, Dean would call him to do endless stuff and the stakeout would be good as dead. Kimo was sitting upside down on his bed, his legs spread over his comforter and his reddening face hanging from the side. Every once in a while he had to push his glasses up his nose which Hogarth thought could be entirely avoided if he just sat up the right way. Hogarth was on a rug on the wooden floor, grateful for the breeze coming through Kimo’s open window.  “We might see something important.”

“That’s what real scientists are for. Like NASA.” Hogarth flipped through a red notebook that he pulled from Kimo’s backpack. “What’s the scientific method again?”

“Ha ha,” Kimo deadpanned as he pushed his glasses up his nose.

Hogarth pulled out an Instamatic camera and looked at Kimo holding the camera in front of him. “Really?”

“What?”

“A camera?”

“What?”

“The stakeout’s gonna be at night for optimal viewing conditions. You can’t take photos at night. It’s night. It’ll be dark. We’ve been through this.”

“William Gedney can,” said Kimo, righting himself. He pulled himself fully onto his bed and rested his head in his hands. His glasses were crooked.

“Who’s William Gedney?”

“Photographer.”

“I’m gonna be honest, you could’ve said he was a professional juggler and I wouldn’t notice the difference,” Hogarth said. “Besides, the red thing’s in the sky. You can’t take a photo from that far away.”

“Whatever. I might just snap something and put in my scrapbook.”

Hogarth zipped up Kimo’s backpack and smiled. “You have a scrapbook? I didn’t know.”

“Yeah.”

“Neat. Can I see it?”

“Can you put my camera back? And yeah, later. It’s got an entire four pages dedicated to Caroline Whittaker.”

Hogarth laughed, “You’re such a dork, Kimo.”

“It’s actually just one page. She’s got a rose in her hair and stuff.”

Hogarth rolled his eyes but put the camera back inside anyway. “So, we have food and the scientific method. You ready?” Hogarth swung his backpack of snacks over his shoulder. “Oh, shit. My binoculars.”

“I got them,” said Kimo getting off his bed. He ran to close his windows. “You forgot them here last time.”

Kimo tossed Hogarth the binoculars and they both ran down the stairs where Kimo’s mother, Mrs. Napua Pelekai was preparing a massive green Jell-O dessert that she called a “Crown Jewel Cake” and declared was strictly for the Lady’s Book Club and that they weren’t to touch, to which Kimo explained he had no intention of doing. Mrs. Pelekai was a funny lady, very short and very chubby, but she laughed at everything. However, when it came to food, no one could ever tell if it was a joke. Mr. Pelekai did most of the cooking.

“Don’t breathe on it, Kimo,” she said, covering the colorful monstrosity with a clear top.

“I won’t, Mom,” Kimo said.

“This took a long time, so I want no, absolutely no, accidents. If you need the kitchen, you take walk a large circle around this cake.”

“Honestly, mom,” Kimo said, gripping his backpack. “Me and Hogarth are heading out so it won’t get into any accidents.”

Mrs. Pelekai leveled him with an “are-you-sure-about-that?” look because accidents tended to happen around Kimo, and her worry about the cake was probably warranted.

Hogarth made a snorting sound behind him.

“Shut up, Hogarth,” Kimo muttered. They began to walk out the door.

“Aloha, Kimo. Aloha, Hogarth!” she said as they opened the front door.

“Bye, Mom,” said Kimo.

“Bye, Kimo’s mom!” shouted Hogarth.

They started down the driveway and began walking on the next road. Soon the rocky pavement of the town turned into the dirt, grass, and moss of the Rockwell Woods. The woods of Rockwell more or less surrounded the town. That just came with the territory. You couldn’t possibly escape wildlife in the entirety of the state of Maine and, Hogarth mused, why would you want to? He hadn’t traveled much in his life. Last year, he had gone with Kimo’s family to the Seattle World’s Fair where they talked about the “world of tomorrow” and the “music of the future” and it was fun, but incredibly loud (though Kimo said that it was just because of the fair). Another time was after his mom got married to Dean and they went down to New, Orleans to meet Dean’s family and they had tried a whole bunch of weird spicy food and when they walked down Bourbon Street, Hogarth finally understood why Dean adored the saxophone so much even if he couldn’t play it so well. Before Dean, he hadn’t really gone anywhere that wasn’t outside of the state of Maine and, even after Dean, he wasn’t sure if he really wanted to move anywhere else. He loved the flickering of the lightning bugs over the tall grass and he loved the weird Paul Bunyan statue that was built a few years ago. He loved the friendliness of his community and the clear night sky (something he was told has difficult to see in the city and he couldn’t imagine it. How could someone live somewhere where you couldn’t see the stars in the night sky?)

And he loved the woods.

Kimo, on the other hand, only barely tolerated the woods of the northern state. He grew up in a much warmer climate where there were beaches and warm winters. His community was just as friendly according to him, but it wasn’t anywhere near as quiet as Rockwell. Kimo loved the endless ocean and sounds of music in the distance. He wasn’t too fond of the unfamiliar bugs in the woods and the stories of Lyme Disease scared him into wearing long sleeves within yards of any tree, even during the heat of the summer (which Kimo argued that it wasn’t anywhere near as hot as Hawaiian summers, so he was fine, don’t worry about it).

The woods were looming and boundless, great and dark as they stretched into the orange sky. The hoots of owls greeted the boys as they reached the edge of the forest and after walking for a while, Hogarth pointed upwards towards where the red light was becoming visible against the sky. Despite that, it was still a sort of “blink-and-you-miss-it” situation. The light was barely there, but it was there. Unmoving and mysterious and Hogarth didn’t know what to expect, but at least he had a box of Twinkies to eat while watching the show.

They found themselves a clearing that was a little ways away from the power plant. Overall, they were somewhere near Hogarth’s house, but far enough that they wouldn’t be disturbed for some time. The boys set their backpacks down on the mix of grass and moss and crouched down, taking their food and supplies out. Hogarth opened his box of Frosty O’s and offered Kimo some, who took a handful. Then, they leaned back, heads resting against their backpacks and they held their binoculars and looked to the darkening sky.

* * *

“Any change?”

“No, Hogarth.”

“How about now?”

“It’s only been a second, Hogarth.”

“A lot can change in a second.”

“It’s still just staying there. It hasn’t gone anywhere.” Kimo set down his binoculars and squinted to where he supposed Hogarth was, although he couldn’t be sure as it was now the dead of night. There were a few lightning bugs, but they didn’t do much against pitch black. And he would’ve shined his flashlight at his friend, but he didn’t want to blind him or something. “Maybe it’s just a weird…star thing.”

“Stars twinkle,” said Hogarth, his face frowning in intense concentration as if he would be able to see what it was if only he scowled a little deeper. “Whatever this is, it’s not twinkling.”

“Satellite?”

“We've been over that. Those move. This has just been there doing nothing. It’s weird.”

“Hmm,” mumbled Kimo. “Planet?”

“Of all things, why would you think it’s a planet?”

“I’m just throwing ideas out.”

“Do you think it’s a planet, Kimo?”

“No,” Kimo said immediately, because it obviously wasn’t one.

“Well, there.”

Another few minutes passed by and Hogarth was already halfway through his box of Twinkies and Kimo had already finished all the Bugles. Clouds seemed like they were forming and Hogarth swore he felt a few raindrops. Sometimes, a few seconds would pass by and the light would be gone, and then it would come back. Probably clouds, then. And, of course, he didn’t bring a coat with him or anything. It’s not like Kimo minded too much, he enjoyed the rain, but he knew that the scolding voice of Hogarth’s mom was probably in his friend’s head right now.

“Maybe it’s an atmospheric anomaly,” Kimo suggested. “Sometimes weird things happen with light and water droplets.” He yelped suddenly before relaxing. “I thought, I thought a bug fell on me. Just rain.”

“Atmospheric anomaly? I doubt it,” argued Hogarth, but even he was getting tired. It probably wasn’t anything. “Maybe we can just check this out tomorrow. Maybe something will change by then.”

Except, just as they decided to stand up, the light pulsed a different color. The entire color changed and a circle of light formed around it before dissipating in the clouds above.

“Blue,” whispered Kimo.

The rain started to come down harder and Hogarth and Kimo hurriedly stuffed their things back into their backpack. Hogarth stuffed the rest of his Twinkie in his mouth and Kimo wiped his thick glasses with his shirt. Another light flashed, mostly muted from the clouds in front of it, and the boys simultaneously pulled up their binoculars and looked directly above them and they were surprised by what they saw.

“It’s falling,” Kimo whispered.

“Holy shit,” Hogarth shouted.

They crouched behind a log and still continued watching.

What was falling was truly directly above them and the boys ran a distance to get out of harm’s way. Hogarth brought his binoculars back up and saw that the light was now back to its pinprick size and red color, but something, also red, was still falling.

And it fell.

And fell.

And fell even more.

Until it stopped.

The two boys barely breathed. They hardly noticed the rain, for in front of them, only a few yards away, was something they had never seen before. It hovered above the ground, about three feet up, and the color of the object was red, although it pulsed a blue light, like a glow. It appeared to repel the falling rain, or maybe it was so hot that the rain evaporated before it made contact. He wasn’t sure. It reminded Kimo of a canoe, but he had the strangest feeling that it had never touched water. A translucent sphere of some kind surrounded the entirety of the canoe-thing. Inside of the sphere, sitting in the canoe-thing, was a figure of some kind. The figure was dressed in something puffy and red, like the bright red of a stop sign. Its face was obscured by some mask and it looked around, left and right, up and down, as if observing its surroundings. Kimo was intrigued, but his teeth chattered with nerves. At the corner of his eye, he saw Hogarth inch a little above the log they were hidden behind and Kimo tightly grabbed his friend’s shirt, yanking downwards. Hogarth gave him a questioning look and Kimo tried to express with his face that he didn’t care that he had befriended a space robot years ago, it didn’t mean that all weird things that fell from the sky were friendly. He wasn’t sure if Hogarth got everything, but the brunette gave an exaggerated sigh and nodded before turning back. The blue light pulsing from the canoe-thing shined a blue light across their area of the forest and Kimo was able to see that Hogarth was completely and unabashedly entranced by what he saw.

Suddenly, the canoe-thing pulsed a red color and the boys glanced at each other, wondering what was going on. The object made a sideways-jerking motion and the figure inside yelled something they couldn’t understand, but it was mostly muffled by the sphere he was inside of. Then the canoe-thing slammed down to the ground. The sphere vanished, the light went out, and the figure inside tumbled to the ground and it didn’t move.

There was no sound except for the rain falling and the hard breathing of the two boys who knew they saw something amazing, but were unsure of what it was.

Hogarth was the first to get to his feet. “Hey, Kimo, hand me your camera.”

Kimo thought about making a retort about how Hogarth didn’t want him to bring a camera in the first place, but he really wanted a picture of the thing. Without taking his eyes off of the fallen figure and the canoe-thing, he went through his backpack and wordlessly handed Hogarth the camera. He also got to his feet.

“What do you think it is?” Kimo asked while Hogarth snapped a few pictures. “Another robot?”

“If they can make giant robots, why would they wanna make robots our size? That’d be boring” Hogarth mused, walking closer. The air seemed hotter as he walked closer. “Shit.”

Kimo wiped his eyes, now extremely aware of the falling rain but not minding it too much. “Who’s “they”?”

Hogarth paused and turned to look at Kimo. He gave a shrug. “I dunno. I mean, the giant robot was a giant robot. It’s what Mr. Shelnutt calls “inorganic”. Someone had to have made him. Maybe”

“I guess,” Kimo said. He fumbled for his flashlight and clicked it on. The light was blindingly bright after being so long in the dark and, while getting it to focus, he shined it in Hogarth’s direction.

“Shit! Kimo, you blinded me!” Hogarth squinted his eyes and held out a hand to block the light.

“Sorry,” Kimo said. He shined it on the canoe-thing and the figure who fell from it. The canoe-thing was still strange, but not as mysterious and other-worldly looking like it was when it was pulsing blue light.

Hogarth knelt down next to figure dressed in the strange puffy outfit. He reached for the thing covering its head and Kimo finally shouted, “What are you doing?”

Hogarth gestured to the figure. “I’m taking the thing off. I’m just curious.” He continued to mess around with the strange mask, pulling it this way and that.

“What if it needs to thing to breath? What if it attacks?”

“I’ll try to put it back on and make a run for it,” Hogarth answered simply. “Look at it. His coat’s shaped like a marshmallow. We’d be out of the woods while he’s still tripping over his feet.” Hogarth sounded so sure of himself, but Kimo knew that his friend would try to talk away all signs of nervousness away.

Kimo focused the flashlight on the man, and although he couldn’t see his friend’s face, he was sure that Hogarth was doing that thing that he did when he was really concentrating. His brows would furrow, his nose would wrinkle, and his tongue might be pressing against the inside of his cheek. “I think I got it,” he said. A popping sound came from the mask appeared to melt into the face of the figure.

A face that looked oddly, well, human.

“Well,” Kimo breathed, all the rising panic melting away like the figure’s, man’s, mask. “He doesn’t look like a spaceman.”

Hogarth poked the man’s face. The man wasn’t moving, but his chest rose and fell like one might do if they were still breathing. The man had short brown hair, parted in the middle. He had lines under his eyes and a split lip. He looked like he was sleeping, but he was just really knocked out.

“What’s wrong with him?” Kimo asked quietly, halfway worried that if he spoke to loud, he would disturb this odd moment they were having in the woods where a man fell from the sky.

“He has a bump on his head,” Hogarth answered, feeling around in the man’s hair. He pulled one of his hands away and his fingers revealed a dark red liquid. The falling rain quickly washed it away. “The bump is bleeding. Some helmet.”

“We should take him to the hospital,” Kimo suggested.

“We’re closer to my house,” Hogarth said. He stood up and combed his wet hair through his fingers and shrugged. “He’ll catch his death in the rain.”

“You sound like your mom,” Kimo said.

Hogarth rolled his eyes. “That, and he’s probably a soviet. I don’t know if they’d help him at the hospital. He could be one of those commie-naut spies.”

“Cosmonauts,” Kimo corrected.

“Yeah."

“What makes you think that he’s not some space man from space?”

“Well, with the giant, it was a giant fucking metal robot. This is just some guy in a Santa coat. It’s probably a soviet thing.” He made a “come here” gesture to Kimo. “Help me carry him, yeah?”

“What?”

“We’re within walking distance to my house. My mom’s used to this stuff. She’ll know what to do.”

“I think that’s only with animals you find,” Kimo said, remembering the animals he’d bring home to Mrs. McCoppin and her never-ending exasperation at each and every time it happened.

“I mean… I just… Kimo,” Hogarth said, his feet slipping on the wet ground as he struggling to carry the fallen man. “Kimo, he might die. We need to help him.”

And what could Kimo say to that?

So, he picked up his backpack and walked towards the man, his All Stars stomping through the muddy ground below him. He wrapped the other arm of the unconscious man around his shoulder and the two boys balanced his weight between them. And they walked in the direction of the McCoppin household, unsure of what had just transpired, hoping this wasn’t a big mistake, but steadying on nonetheless.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be a flashback with Annie. Stay tuned!


	7. I Only Have Eyes For You (Or Annie Falls For A Spaceman)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I can't think of a summary without spoiling anything, so *jazz hands*

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry (Belated) Christmas!!
> 
> This is another flashback chapter about Annie. The next chapter might be about Sarah, I'm not sure yet lol

_Annie didn’t immediately notice it herself, but she was falling in love with Ted Hughes._

_Thoughts would come to her in-between her jobs or while running errands, thoughts about the mysterious man with such a charming smile. Many pages of her diary were devoted to whatever she and Ted spoke about today, or sometimes just small things like the way he laughed. Conversations with her friends would sometimes venture off to what other moment she had shared with the man, and her friends would tease her to no end._

_“I’m like a school girl,” Annie said, a bright smile on her face. She was sure her face was flushed, both from her thoughts about Ted and the embarrassment she felt for herself._

_“It was bound to happen sometime or another,” her friend Grace replied, playfully nudging Annie in the shoulder. They were heading to a nearby orchard to pick up some apples. Ted had said that he had never had apple pie before and that wasn’t going to fly as long as Annie had anything to do about it. “I can see the_ Herald _already. Our Dear Annette has fallen in love. In later news, Farmer Paul’s pigs have taken flight.”_

_“Hush,” Annie said, although she laughed as she did._

_“But you have no idea where he’s come from?” Grace asked. They paused and waited for a car to drive by before they crossed the street._

_“Not even he knows where he’s come from.” It was a case for a lot of confusion. What little information Annie had gathered during his trip to the hospital was that whatever injury that Ted had sustained probably gave him a bad case of amnesia, which would explain the many things he didn’t know. He didn’t know how he got to Rockwell, he didn’t know the year or the current president, he didn’t know what a lobster was, or most food Annie put before him in general. But he knew some things. He knew the names of the oceans and he knew of a lot of the wildlife. He understood math, even if it was a strange manifestation of it that even Grace couldn’t make heads or tails of. He clearly knew English. However, the things he didn’t know vastly outnumbered the things he did. Grace and Eugene, another friend of Annie, had separately made joking remarks about the possibility that “Ted Hughes” wasn’t even his real name._

_Clearly, she was as foolish as a school girl, because Annie decided that it hardly mattered if “Ted Hughes” wasn’t the name his mother gave him. She knew him as Ted Hughes and she loved Ted Hughes._

_Love._

_And she was fairly certain he loved her too._

_It was in the way he brought a flower to her during her lunch breaks- she eventually had enough to make a bouquet, in the way he carried her upstairs when she was dead on her feet after a long and tiring day. It was in the way he studied her mother’s cookbooks and prepared breakfast and dinner for both her and her mother, who had fallen victim to Ted’s charms. It was in the way he listened to her problems and offered advice with his strange analogies and metaphors, in the way they would walk in the foggy moonlight sharing “what-ifs” and “why-nots”. It was in the way they would sit together out on the deck and he would point to the sky, listing the different stars and other various astronomical objects, laughing with her at the ridiculous names._

_He wasn’t a loud person, wasn’t terribly talkative when he wasn’t with her. And while he had never said those three words in the months they had known each other, it was in everything he did._

_My Lord, she was really blushing now._

_From what she had noticed, Ted had taken a great liking to her little town. He vastly enjoyed the winter over the summer months, so she supposed he was from somewhere north. He was kind and patient with everyone in Rockwell, even to someone as unyielding as her mother. He had made acquaintances which had slowly entered the territory of friend, a massive undertaking in a town whose people rarely enjoyed new things, much less new people. He had no memory of his past, but it wasn’t stopping Ted from creating new memories with her and the people here._

_Although, there were the odd moments._

_Moments like how in the middle of the night, he would startle her awake from the other room from pacing the floor and eventually leaving the house, where she would find him staring at the sky with such ferocious intensity, she was certain his gaze alone would burn holes into the atmosphere above. Moments like how he would say words that didn’t sound English, or French even. Moments like when he would fiddle with gadgetry that had apparently been inside his winter coat, and would stop as soon as he noticed she was watching. Moments when he would talk with the young men who had returned home from the war like he understood their very specific struggles. Moments when he would flinch at loud noises and look over his shoulder as if expecting someone. Moments like when he was so tired and started muttering about a place called “Montressor”, only for Annie to walk to the local library and scour books after books in an attempt to find anything about that “Montressor” to no avail (when she asked him, he said it was near Germany, but, curiously, he was holding a newspaper with Germany in the headline)._

_She wrote them all off as nothing important eventually. Everyone had an oddity, even her. Annie liked to bake muffins when she was nervous and she still sometimes walked in her sleep. So, who was she to judge._

_And now she was here, picking apples because a man she loved had never had an apple pie. The horror!_

_“Annie, get your head out of the clouds. You’ll get lost up there if you’re not careful,” Grace said, squeezing Annie’s shoulder. Her basket was filled to the brim with green and yellow apples, Granny Smith and Golden Delicious._

_Annie rolled her eyes while smiling. She reached up and picked an apple hanging from the branch above her._

* * *

 

_Ted wasn’t in the house when she walked inside. It was something she would’ve been worried about months ago when the man hadn’t known anything about anything, memory gone as it was. Now, he knew people and tended to go out and about when the weather was nice, like it was currently. Annie shed her coat, tossing it on the chair beside her._

_Her mother was in the kitchen, loudly going on about the latest news and Rockwell gossip. Someone was moving away from town and someone was moving into town. The farms yield good crops and there was talk that the library would need to be rebuilt after the storm they just had. Annie let her mother’s chatter turn into background noise as she washed, chopped, and spiced her picked apples. She rolled out the dough, cut it up all precise-like as she had done plenty of times before. All throughout, she would glance at the door._

_It was getting late and Annie began to worry. She placed the pie in the oven and before she could pick up the phone in the other room and inquire about where Ted could possibly be, he walked through the front door. His brown hair was neatly combed and his clothes were wrinkled, but still sharp. He held a heart-shaped box in one hand and his other hand was behind his back. Even though he stood up straight and looked the very picture of a dapper Hollywood man, his blue eyes glittered with some contagious excitement that even Annie started feeling excited herself. Granted, she had no idea what was going on._

_“Ted?” she asked, walking out of the kitchen. She dusted her white-coated hands on her apron. “You’re back so late. What, did you made new friends?” she asked, thinking about how Ted had started to gradually open up to the people in her town. She smiled and clasped her hands behind her back. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see her mother leave the kitchen. Ginette Mirabel Martel looked like she was practically jumping up and down, as if she knew something Annie didn’t._

_“Annie Lea Martel,” he began, his deep voice clear even though Annie could hear a little uncertainty underneath. “I’m sure your coming across me put your world in a whirlwind and I’m not sure if I ever apologized for any of the inconvenience you had to suffer on my behalf.” At that, Annie opened her mouth to speak, but Ted raised a hand for her to pause so he could continue. “That being said, even though I can’t recall much of my life before I landed here in your lovely town of Rockwell, I can say with the upmost certainty that it couldn’t have possibly measured up to the months I have spent here living with you. You have taught me so many wonderful things and I can only hope that we can spend even more years together.”_

_Ted got down on one knee, placing the heart-shaped box on the floor next to him. He brought his other hand from behind her back which was holding a small black box._

_Annie’s face went scarlet and her ears burned._

_Ted opened the box._

_Annie could hardly breathe._

_“Annie Lea Martel, my Earth angel,” he softly said._

_Annie began to cry._

_“Will you marry me?”_

_And as for what happened next, for years and years later, Annie would be able to describe every last detail, from the smell of cinnamon and apple in the air, to the sound of the owls hooting outside, to the happy noise of her mother clapping, to the warm feeling of home when Annie ran into Ted’s open arms. It was more than what she could’ve hoped for, more than she could’ve possibly imagined. The only thing missing was Abel, but Annie was sure that somewhere, he was looking down on his little sister with the grandest smile on his freckled face._

_Of course, nothing this beautiful could last._


	8. I'm Sorry (Or Leland's Actions And Words Are Equally As Bad)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Leland's a bitch ass, but we been knew
> 
> And the title is from "I'm Sorry" by Brenda Lee (a song featured on The End of the F***ing World, which is an amazing miniseries with an Aesthetic tm, so ch-check it out (as the Beastie Boys say).

_Sarah Hawkins always found it easier to look forward and never back, with only a little stumbling along the way to show for her troubles._

_However, she had her days when it was nothing but stumble after stumble after unrelenting stumble._

_It was a sprinkle of rain she was able to ignore on the best of days, a storm she was able to weather on the worst of days, but on some few and far between days, the storm came and she had no shelter in order to wait it out; she would be left exposed in the open and would nearly drown under the pressure of the flood that would come._

_One of those days was a few days before Jim’s thirteen birthday, a day that unhappily fell not even a week after the anniversary of Leland’s departure. It fell every year and Sarah was always prepared; the inn would close for a scheduled “maintenance” wherein she and Jim would clean the house to the best of their ability, and they would head down to the Northern Prairie territories because a large family constantly poking and prodding was a healthy distraction from it all. Sarah and Jim would head down to a local underground bakery, established in an expansive cave, and devour the most tooth-rotting sweets they could handle, while afterwards heading to a comedic play—Sarah was thankful that any toured there at all— or a fair. Anything to make Jim happy and distract her._

_The first year after Leland left was difficult. Sarah hadn’t known the extent of damage within Jim after his father decided to walk out the door and never return. And she hadn’t truly forgiven herself for her negligence. Jim had begun skipping school, and the days he was there he still wasn’t truly present. He wouldn’t pay attention to the instructors and he started instigating fights at school. Sarah hadn’t known because Jim would say everything was fine, that he was handling everything well. And with his smile, a smile that was so much like his father’s, Sarah would let him go off on his merry way. If his teachers ever sent him letters for his mother to read, or even letters directly to her, Jim either didn’t let her know or Sarah had unconsciously ignored them. After all, her husband running off left so much to fall on her shoulders; the half of work that used to belong to him belong to her now. So when she finally learned everything that had been happening at Jim’s school, he had already fallen far behind and any friends he must have had were no longer associated with him._

_‘_ The cruelty of children _’, Sarah had thought when she went to pick up Jim from school and saw him sitting alone on a field with a piece of parchment and a stick of charcoal in his hand while the other students in his class played happily not even a yard away from him. He furiously sketched away while they skipped and laughed._

_Jim’s teachers recommended that he attend a different school. They let Sarah know that they sympathized with her situation and that it was, indeed, terrible, but Jim was a distraction to the other children. He was a smart boy, of course, even brilliant at times. His gifts would be better served elsewhere. He could maybe even skip a grade, they said._

_There were expenses, of course. Expenses Sarah Hawkins wasn't able to afford._

_And Sarah went home, Jim’s black-coated hand clasped in her own, slick with cooking oil, and she made her son promise to never hide important information from her ever again and that he needed to bring his truancy down to an absolute minimum (she couldn't tell him to stop completely. She knew that he wouldn't listen and that would be hypocritical of herself to say that, the things she did in her youth with little to no real excuse). Jim shrugged and begrudgingly agreed and they went off to make and eat dinner. Over dinner, Sarah asked him if there was anything that he wanted from his birthday, and Jim jokingly suggested that they eat something that would rot their teeth. To his surprise, his mother entertained that thought and for his birthday, they went to Reginald’s Candy Cavern, filled to the brim with rock candy and other treats, near her hometown and it was quickly made a tradition in the Hawkins family._

_Every following year, starting on Jim’s 10t_ _h_ _birthday, they would celebrate while doing their best to forget about Leland. One would say it was a futile endeavor; Jim would still get moodier and moodier as it got closer to the day his father left, but Sarah was nothing but resilient and she never wanted to see her son cry on a week that was supposed to be about him. So, she pushed on._

_She wouldn’t be able to forget about Leland, despite it all._

_It was the day before the scheduled “maintenance” of the inn. Jim was packing his things and Sarah was upside-down on the ceiling wearing the anti-gravity shoes that she had designed a few months before. Jim designed his own pair, but used some of his mother’s tips because they didn’t work as well as hers. The purpose of them could probably be developed for many different uses, but Sarah made them specifically to scrub the ceiling because her customers would somehow, and she couldn’t fathom how, managed to spill their food in such a way that it launched onto the ceiling of the inn, this spot in particular below her bedroom. She had no idea how that could happen. Years-worth of stains coated the ceiling and “out of sight, out of mind”, a mindset she had kept for the last few years, could only last for so long._

_“Uh o-oh. Oh dear! Sarah, are you sure that’s safe?” came the voice of her friend Dr. Delbert Doppler._

_She had been introduced to Delbert, sometime when Jim was seven, at a nearby conference in the downtown area giving a talk about astronomy, a field that Sarah didn’t know much about—she was more inclined to do hands-on inventing than anything having to do with physics—but didn’t want to pass up either. There weren’t many events on the mountains and Sarah took full advantage of any and all events that were scheduled to happen. Leland didn’t care as much as she did, his heads stuck in the clouds as they tended to be, and Sarah was fine with that. She didn’t need to be accompanied by someone who would sooner argue than do anything else. And when Sarah arrived at the venue where the Dr. Doppler was to be speaking, she sat at the very front row, absolutely engaged with his words even though she couldn’t understand half of what he said. His commanding know-it-all voice about the intricacies of the Etherium and interstellar travel, blackholes and wormholes, enraptured her. His strong voice quickly changed once he was off the stage and Sarah saw him as far more approachable stumbling over his words and interrupting himself midsentence. He was much funnier than he believed himself to be and Sarah became quick friends with the doctor. Closer still after Leland left. He was always there for chat over lunch or to lend a dry shoulder._

_He was also helpful in the case of catching soiled towels._

_“I am perfectly fine, Delbert,” Sarah loudly said. She stood up straight, looking up at the doctor who was nervously pacing the floor above her. Below her? Standing upside down definitely changes one’s perspective. “These shoes are as stable as a turkey-yak!”_

_“No doubt, Sarah,” Delbert said from the floor. He paced so erratically that he nearly knocked over the bucket of soiled towels he had been catching from Sarah. “But, for my own peace of mind, maybe I could collect a comforter or something—”_

_“I can simply walk down the wall, Delbert.” Sarah pointed at her bulky black shoes. “Tried and true, Delbert, believe me.”_

_Sarah could hear a sighed “Oh Dear” from the floor and she smiled. “The stain is almost out. Just a little more…” she scrubbed the ceiling even more, the red, orange, and green of the stain fading by the second. Until, finally. “And it’s done.”_

_“Thank heavens.”_

_She straightened out and braced herself to walk toward the wall to begin her journey to the floor of the inn when something yellow caught her eye. The stains on the ceiling varied; some stains were only in color while other stains were more like thick layers of who knows what. And after dislodging that layer in particular, something yellow seemed to stick out from between the layers of hardwood making up the ceiling of the first floor and the floor of her bedroom. She reached for it. It felt like paper._

_“Sarah? I-I thought you were heading down from the ceiling.”_

_“I am,” she started. “I just found something...” She pulled at the paper slowly, careful not to tear it as it passed through the gap in the floor. It was an nerve-wracking process, although Sarah didn’t know why it was so nerve-wracking. It was probably a letter on her bedroom floor that had somehow got stuck between the planks some time ago._

_Finally dislodged, she stuffed it snugly into her bosom, knowing that keeping Delbert waiting would lead to him having a stroke. Or worse._

_Once on the ground, she unlatched her shoes and placed them safely at a corner of the room. Barefoot, she walked to the bucket that Delbert was manning and picked it up, heading to the sink. “I have to wash these.”_

_“I insist,” Delbert began. He placed a furry hand on his chest and his ears flattened against his head in solemnity. “I can do this for you.”_

_“It’s no trouble,” Sarah said. “Jim designed this gadgetry, an auto-wash he calls it, and it spin-washes the clothes inside a bucket, well, automatically. I’ll show you.” She began to walk to the back of the kitchen where, stored inside a closet, it was. It had a large cogwheel on the outside and when Sarah pulled the top open, Delbert could see a large cogwheel underneath the top. Three wooden poles were attached to the cogwheel inside and Sarah explained, as she dumped the towels inside, along with a bucket of sudsy water that was sitting next to the closet as well, that the wheel would start and it would wash the clothes for you._

_“He’s a really smart boy,” she said as the auto-wash powered on. “And I can’t say that he doesn’t apply himself—he does when he wants to—but he doesn’t perform as much as he could at school. He’d be far above all the other kids if only he pushed himself where it was needed. I mean,” she chuckled, looking to Delbert. Her hands twisting at her side, “I’m sure every mother says that about their children, but I just know that for a fact.”_

_Delbert gave her a caring smile. “That son of yours is definitely something. He’s got a lot of, uh, capability in that head of his. He’s just a little, uh, a lot, just a mite—”_

_“Moody?” Sarah offered._

_“I was going to say ‘callous’, or perhaps ‘incorrigible’, but that’s so much nicer. We’ll go with that.”_

_Sarah laughed._

_“What do you have there? The paper, I believe, that you pulled from the ceiling?” Delbert stared so curiously at her chest, Sarah swore she could hear the gears turning in his head. “Anything important?”_

_“Well,” Sarah began, “It was below my bedroom. It must’ve gotten suck under a rug or the bed, maybe. Heavens knows how long it’s been stuck up there caked under all that rubbish.” She pulled the paper, folded apparently, out from her bosom and wiped some of the grime away with her hand. Sarah made a face as she did so as the grime was slightly sticky in texture._

_‘_ I need to let the Livingston family know that we can provide outside seating _,’ she thought, thinking of the youngest member of the Livingston bunch. Sweet little girl, but notorious at making messes._

_She opened the folded paper up. It was brown in some places, yellow-tinted overall, and the creases made slight tearing sounds as she opened it. She then began to open it more gently. She gazed at what was written at the top of the paper.  She figured that it must have been some shopping list from years ago she had written, or maybe a list of gifts she had intended to get for Jim for the annual Lo Nura holiday, the festival of lights, so many years ago (she did remember losing a list and having to improvise at the last minute)._

_It was neither of those things._

_Written in a familiar thick penmanship on the top right corner of the page was a simple ‘Sarah’._

_Sarah could hardly make it through the rest of the letter on account of the burning tears that quickly blurred her vision._ _She could hear Delbert worriedly say her name. “Sarah? Sarah, are you okay?”_

_Damn that flight-risk of a man, Leland Hawkins. How would she ever be okay again with all the echoes of his existence constantly surrounding her?_

_Sarah hardly felt Delbert soft hands on her arms, didn’t notice when she had been helped down to the ground. The cold feeling of the wall pressed against her back._

_‘_ Sarah _’, it started._

_Part of Sarah wanted to do anything than read what that pathetic excuse for a Montressin had to say._

_Another part wanted desperately to find meaning in what had been written. Maybe it would answer that nagging question of why? Maybe it would give a good reason, that he had no choice, that he believed that he was everything Sarah had called him and more._

_Maybe it would say he would come back?_

_Not that she wanted him back. Obviously._

_“It’s Leland,” she said softly, voice surprisingly showing no evidence of her reddened face or her watery eyes._

_Delbert had the good sense not to say anything cutting after that. Sarah’s appearance must have been a sight._

_“Whatever it says,” Delbert started, kneeling down next to Sarah. He placed his larger warm hand on her small and clammy ones. “Whatever he wrote, it doesn’t change how you’ve moved on. It doesn’t change anything.”_

_Sarah sniffed in lieu of answering and continued to read._

‘I hope that, in time, you can understand”, _it continued_. ‘It is with no pleasure, great or small, that I must leave Montressor. There are matters of the war, and I know you despise this topic but I implore you to continue, that have not left me and my company unscathed. I was a young and reckless youth, wanting a taste of adrenaline that would never be sated. I did not try and suppose the consequence of my actions, thinking that it would hardly matter in the long run. After all, our fight was justified _._

'Many of my friends are dying, Sarah. In a different time, in a better time, perhaps I could have introduced them to you. I am sure you would have enjoyed their company, much more than you enjoy mine. I have not yet come to a definitive conclusion about who is executing them. I cannot say if these are the acts of a vengeful Federation or any number of insurgents. All I know is that I must move on, lest you suffer the consequences of my actions _.’_

‘We are already suffering the consequences of your actions _,’ Sarah thought bitterly. Despite it, she read on._

‘The Federation never forgets. Its memory is as long as the Etherium is wide and it rarely ever forgives. I do not regret my actions. But I regret the way it affected you and young James _._

‘There are whispers thereabouts speaking of a secret project that the Federation enacted, one that is rumored to have led to the destruction of Nagbu. Such a declaration sounds ridiculous, but I have nothing to lose by proving it true.

‘Yes you did, you idiot _,’ Sarah thought, tears pouring faster than they did before. She furiously wiped her eyes and waved Delbert’s attempts to take the paper away._

‘The evidence of these crimes lies outside of the Etherium. I’m not sure where or how I will even attempt such a voyage. However, my connections have connections and I will find a way. Hawkins-folk always do.

_Sarah was not humored in the slightest._

‘I do not know when I will return. I do not know if I even will return. But my decision is in the best interest of not only you and James, but for all those in the galaxy who have been hurt by the Federation.

‘In time I hope you will find it within yourself to forgive me like I have forgiven you.

‘Leland.’

_“You stupid man,” Sarah muttered. She hardly noticed when her fingers nearly tore through the edges of the letter, she was clenching it so hard. “You low-life, muck snipe, irresponsible, poor excuse for a husband—”_

_“Sarah, please,” Delbert said softly. “Please lower your voice.”_

_“I will not lower my voice, Delbert!” Sarah stood, crumbling the paper in her hand as she did so. She didn’t care if it tore in the process. “Damn Leland Hawkins! Asking me for his forgiveness? The audacity of this, this bastard! Daring to write those cruel words! Why, if he were here, he would not longer have a mouth to speak out of! He would no longer have hands to write such filth!”_

_“Sarah—” Delbert tried to interject._

_“Don’t you ‘Sarah’ me!” Sarah cut him off, pushing him away with her hands on his chest. “He could’ve told me! If he agonized so much about these things, he could’ve let me know. But, no! Leland has to be such a vazey and fuck off to heavens knows where!”_

_“Sarah—”_

_“I’ll let you know when I’m finished, Delbert!”_

_“Mom?”_

_Sarah’s heart dropped to her stomach and she turned to see Jim standing at the doorway. His hands were still coated with white dust after patching up the walls in the cellar. His round blue eyes were wide with worry. And fear? He looked from her to Delbert, seeing her fists against Delbert’s chest. His eyes narrowed. “What are you doing—”_

_“It’s not Delbert, Jim,” Sarah said. Her previously strong voice now crumpled like chalk underneath one’s feet. Her voice thinned and cracked. “It’s your father.”_

_Jim’s previous suspicion instantly vanished and was slowly replaced by anger. “I don’t understand.”_

_In a moment of weakness, Sarah collapsed into Delbert and the doctor held her tight as friends do. Unfortunately, the crumpled yellow letter fell from Sarah’s hand. In nearly a blink of an eye, Jim dashed to where it had fallen while Delbert watched hopelessly. He couldn’t let go of Sarah, but he wasn’t looking for the fallout that would most certainly occur after Jim read his father’s words._

_And what else could she expect from her son? After his father left, he had searched far and wide for a reason. Looked everywhere there could be to find an answer._

_And now he had one._

_Jim quickly scanned the letter, looking for all the world like a starving man finally, finally, getting sustenance._

_Jim didn’t hate his father. Sarah knew this and accepted it. She would hate him enough for the both of them. But Jim had always yearned for something to fill the void that had left behind by Leland. Delbert never quite fit the mold. So when Jim’s angry face morphed into sadness, Sarah expected no less._

_It didn’t stop her from crying as well._

_Leaving for the Northern Prairie Territories would have to be put off for another day._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter will be about what the hell Jim is up to now. I might post it today actually!
> 
> Also, "Lo Nura" is just some made up holiday. I decided that most cultures have some sort of fesitval of lights and a lot of cultures have a gift-giving holiday. So, it wouldn't be a stretch, imo, to invent one for Montressor. Granted, since it's a whole freakin planet, not all of Montressor celebrates it unless there was some weird colonizing shit that happened in the planet's past (like not everyone on Earth celebrates Christmas and, if they do, there's not really a pretty history about why that is). So the mountainous and Northern Prairies for the most part celebrate it. That's just what's going on in my head.
> 
> Also also, Delbert I kind of envisioned as some weird uncle type.
> 
> Also also also, Leland leaving Sarah and Jim behind would have very long-lasting negative consequences (like why Jim is the way he is in Treasure Planet and the passing remarks made about his schooling and his trouble with the law). But, he's also extremely smart, right (also with the way he quickly picks up skills while under Silver's eye and also how he was able to tell the law enforcement the exact law they were talking about and shit).
> 
> Also also also also, my headcanon is that Leland is attracted to artists because I always figured Jim got his knack for creating things from his mom (a hobby that involves blueprints and shit) and Hogarth is very clearly an artist (and you have that scene where Annie is critiquing Dean's work, so I figured she's an artist too).
> 
> That was a lot of rambling. Wow


	9. Telstar (Or Jim Starts Realizing Things)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> *jack nicholson voice* Here's Jimmy!!!
> 
> And the title is from "Telstar" by the Tornadoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> and I wanna thank kentmccoppins (on here) or moonaluxe (on tumblr) for making a post about headcannoning Dean McCoppins as, not just biracial, but biracial Louisiana Creole (check out their work!!). Which I'm all about.
> 
> So, in this story, Dean is part Scottish (last name) and Louisiana Creole (everything else). I'm all about that life.
> 
> Also, I have the headcanon that Annie (and Hogarth consequently) are both part French Canadian. I have literally no idea where Rockwell, Maine is supposed to be (let's say Rockland, but who knows?), considering it's fictional. Around 16% of the people in Maine are of French ancestry and a little more than 7% are of French Canadian ancestry. And the state of Maine has the highest percentage of French speakers, Louisiana only second to that (even though Louisiana still has a larger number but yeah lol). I kind of see Annie as having been taught conversational French because she would've been a kid around the 20s and 30s. And I see her teaching Hogarth stuff. Like, apparently a lot of people in Maine speak French, especially older people. And the timeline makes sense to be for them to know it because my Mema's parents and Papaw's parents still regularly spoke Cajun french in the early to mid 1900s and it was starting to be discouraged a lot by the time my grandparents were born, so).
> 
> Also, it's cute.

Jim woke up to a fog.

He tried to piece together what he remembered from the night before. The descent, the impact, the image of the moon, the muffled voices. He could still feel the phantom feelings of hands although he couldn’t remember who the hands belonged to. He couldn’t remember much, something that disturbed him more than he would vocally admit.

_ Typical Katherine _ , he thought,  _ sending him into the path of danger every single time _ .

Granted, she would call him reckless. It was well deserved, but c'mon. It's not like she tried to stop him.

He opened his eyes slowly as the light caused him to immediately wince. He wondered how bad the impact was, that the light hurt now. As soon a his eyes were wide open, he was instantly struck at the sight of the room he was in. Even the fact that he was in a room. Of course, he wasn’t sure what he would’ve expected; he wasn’t adept at understanding the living conditions of people on this planet with only a few documents and videos about it. His eyes weren’t seeing anything totally crystal clear; double vision permeated every object his eyes fell on. But Jim could make out a few things, although not everything he could recognized: a wooden floor, a brown bedside dresser, possible paintings on the walls, a shelf full of what looked like really old fashioned books. A green carpet on one side of the room and a pile of clothes on the other. The room was obviously lived in, but the “who” was still up in the air.

_ Whoever those people were who brought him here would show up eventually _ , he figured.

Feeling like he needed to throw up, he rolled over and hung his legs over the edge of what he immediately realized was a bed. Resting his elbows on his thighs, he held his head in his hand and tried to breathe slowly. His head felt strangely heavy and as he felt around it, he noticed something cold pressed to the side of it. His fingers came away slightly numb and slightly wet.

_ Ice _ , his brain supplied.

“I guess the people of Earth aren’t hostile,” Jim muttered to himself. He wasn't sure what to expect about the people of this planet. Plenty of the writings about them were contradictory. They would have wars spanning decades and continents, from what he read. But they were kind enough to help a stranger. Then again, it was a small sample. Regardless, he needed to get that information to Katherine. Right after he managed to contact her. 

Jim inspected the wristwatch around his right wrist and pressed a button to the side in a specific pattern. From the button, a bright light shone in front of him in the shape of circle, about the size of Jim’s head, if just slightly larger. The light gathered into colors until the disdainful face of Katherine Blake formed.

“Hi, Katherine,” Jim began.

“I told you that jumping out in a storm was a bad idea,” was Katherine’s reply. “We should’ve done this a day later.”

“Hello, James. How are you doing?” Jim said, imitating Katherine’s accent before switching back to his own. “I’m doing swell, Katherine. How nice of you to ask?”

“Are you done with your childish antics?”

“Are you done acting like this course of action had nothing to do with you? Because, if we didn’t start last night, somehow this still would’ve found a way to wrap around and still blame me. You hate putting things off and you know it, Katherine Blake.”

Katherine sighed and she pinched the bridge of her orange nose. Her typical bun hairstyle wasn't as well put-together as it always was. Stray hairs poked out here and there. “At least tell me that you’re somewhere safe.”

“I am, I think” Jim said. He moved around his wrist so Katherine would be able to see the room. “It’s small. You'd call it "quaint". I just might stay.” Jim just noticed that it was daytime, as the light shined under the blue curtains hanging over the window. The fall was certainly bad if he was noticing things slowly. That was a problem. “I haven’t been introduced to the owners of this room. It’s obviously lived in. I just woke up and it was a fairly bad fall.”

“Was it?”

“It was.”

"What did you think would happen?"

"I don't know. Expect that the ship would give me a good landing, not a crash."

"How'd it crash?"

"Like old ships typically crash," Jim explained. "Kind of just sputtered and hit the ground."

"How's your head? And what's that on it?"

"It's fine, I think. Just a bump." He lifted up the bag of ice where reddened skin had swollen into a bump. "And it's ice. Feels like ice, at least."

“Remember, James,” Katherine started. “Stay on task, question the locals, and focus on the mission.”

“Of course, Katherine.”

“ _ Focus _ , James. We either graduate or we don’t.”

“Yes sir, Major Dunn.”

Katherine rolled her eyes and groaned. “I’ll stay up here for the time being and finish going through the documents.” From the hologram, Jim could barely make out the paper scattered about, or as scattered as Katherine would let them be, around her. She was more adept to the reading part of. Jim would hate to be up to his ears in paper. That probably explained her disheveled look. Or as disheveled as Katherine allowed herself to be.

_ Not that I care _ , Jim quickly thought.

“We’ll make contact again in two nights, unless something comes up before that. Until then, James.” The hologram flickered off.

“Until then, Katherine Blake,” said Jim. He stumbled to his feet and managed to stay up despite the vertigo. He walked to the window where light was shining and drew the curtains. Wincing again, Jim held a hand over his eyes while they adjusted to the light and looked out to the landscape that he hadn’t been able to see during the black of night. There was a tree in front of the window, and beyond that were green fields and rocky roads and deep green forestry as far as the eye could see. The sky was a brilliant blue and held fluffy white clouds.

It reminded Jim of the blinds that Jim’s mother attached to the windows at their old inn. He couldn’t imagine looking outside every day and seeing something like this.

As he looked outside the window, Jim’s thoughts were interrupted by the squeaky sound of a doorknob turning. He turned around just in time to be faced with a boy wearing a white shirt and blue pants. He had unruly brown hair and a wide crooked smile. He was obviously going through the annoying process of puberty, his large hands and the acne on his forehead being evidence enough.

Did all humans look so Montressin?

Jim hoped that the translator in his ear was up to date, because he didn’t have the time to manually learn a new language in the span of less than a month.

“Hey, you’re awake!” the boy said, eyes lighting up. Jim was relieved that he could understand what he was saying. “I’m Hogarth. How’s your head?”

“Uh,” Jim started. He mentally prepared himself before he spoke. He hope the tech would do its trick. “How do ye?”

At Hogarth’s confused face, Jim concluded that while he understood the language, the output of the translator might be a bit outdated. It was, what, a hundred years since the last time squadrons came to Earth? 

“What?”

Jim tried again in a more careful voice. “Hey,” repeating Hogarth’s greeting. “Um, my name is James Hawkins.” He paused. “I am also partial to “Jim”.” He didn't say his rank or anything. Apparently, planets outside of the Etherium weren't supposed to get introduced to the greater galactic community until some undetermined later date. The less they knew, the better.

“Where’ya from Jim Hawkins?” Hogarth asked.

Jim opened his mouth to answer, but Hogarth continued. 

“Because, you talk kind of weird, but that could just be from the bump on your head. I heard that sometimes people get a little screwy when they get hit on the head. I covered it with ice because my mom said that that’s the way to deal with bumps on the head. Also, my friend, his name’s Kimo, figured that you might be a Soviet Cosmonaut, like that Gagarin fellow, but my mom said that it seemed “outside the realm of possibility”, but yours doesn’t sound like a Soviet accent, I’m pretty sure. Never met anyone from there.” Hogarth, who had been talking with his hands, lowered them before using his thumb to point at the hallway behind him. “You hungry, Jim? And can I call you Jim? James is the name of this asshole who used to be in my math class so it’d be kind of weird."

Jim nodded. He’d actually been nodding the whole time. “I haven’t any issue.”

“Jeez, man, you sound like some old guy.” He walked towards Jim. “You seem okay right now, but I’m still gonna help you down. Mom’ll go nuts if she saw you walking down on your own, especially because of the state we found you in.”

“We?” James asked, as the two of them walked slowly to the room’s opening. Jim looked around at the hallway. For a planet worlds away, everything seemed so similar. It was uncanny.

“Not “we” like me and my mom, but “we” as in me and my friend Kimo.” Hogarth had and arm around Jim’s back and Jim gripped Hogarth’s arm like a vice. With every step, Jim fought against nausea. He didn’t feel like he was in the right condition to eat anyway. He just tried to focus on the sound of Hogarth’s chatter in order to distract him from this annoyance.

“Where’ya from anyway?” Hogarth asked. “Okay, take slow steps. We’re going down the stairs.”

“I am from Montressor,” Jim said, letting the name slip out before he could think of something made up. Maybe he shouldn't have put off the readings of the countries of Earth. He was more than certain that Montressor wasn’t a place on this planet, accidentally named or not.

“Montressor,” Hogarth said, wrapping his mouth around the foreign name. “That in Russia?”

Jim wasn’t sure if it was a good idea to answer the affirmative or the negative. “Near there,” is what he decided on.

“Cool,” Hogarth said. Jim looked for any hint of suspicion on his face but found nothing. All there was was curiosity and an evident eagerness to help. Jim wasn’t sure if it was the kind of help like a kid finding a stray animal in the rain and asking their parent if they could keep it. He tried hard to not feel offended. 

“Mom!” Hogarth called towards the kitchen as they reached the final step. Jim groaned at the sound and Hogarth gave an apologetic look. “Sorry. I wasn’t thinking. That crash did a real number on your head, man.”   


Jim considered nodding, but he wasn’t sure if his head could take it.

Sounds of dishes and the smells of food came from the kitchen as Hogarth helped Jim to the table. Jim could see a brown-haired woman at work at a fire? On the counter? Food was inside a pan, but Jim couldn’t recognize it. It was yellow, but it looked fine enough.

“Mom!” Hogarth called, softer this time. Leaving Jim at the table. Jim rested his hands on the surface of the table, feeling the smoothness of the wood. He decided that after he ate whatever they cooked, he’d start asking questions. Hopefully, they’d lead him in the right direction. Up until now, at least, his encounters with the people of Earth seemed to be friendly. And a lot less wet than he had previously imagined while he had been in orbit.

“Hello,” came the sound of woman’s voice. Jim raised his head and looked into the eyes of the woman standing in front of the opening to the kitchen. She wore a white apron and held a plate full of food. There was a pile of yellow mush and strips of meat, he thought. Her son, at least he figured Hogarth was, was the spitting image of her. There was a funny look to her eyes, Jim noticed. Like she was looking for something in him. Could people on Earth stare into your body? He didn’t remember reading that.

“Hello,” Jim said, returning the greeting. “You must be the mother of the boy,” he said in his halting voice. Jim tried to not worry about the output. Translators were adaptable and automatically updated as the language was spoken around it. Eventually, he’d be able to speak on their level. He just hoped the lag when it came to his mouth wasn’t too noticeable.

“I’m Annie McCoppin,” she said, setting the plate in front him, her eyes never leaving his. “You were in quite a state when my son and his friend found you last night. Soaked to the skin and bleeding from the head. We cleaned you up well enough, I hope.”

“Mom thought it would be a privacy issue if we changed your clothes, so we just made do,” supplied Hogarth, his voice coming from the kitchen. Jim broke the gaze he held with Annie to watch as Hogarth piled a stack of the slices of meat on his dish. 

“I’m thankful,” Jim answered.

“Thankful?” Annie asked, a quizzical look on her face. 

Jim scanned the translator, looking for a more accurate word. “Appreciative.”

Annie nodded, understanding what he meant. She began to walk back to the kitchen to, Jim assumed, to prepare her own dish. As she did, she noticed Hogarth walking back, and placed her hands on her hips. Jim could recognize that disapproving stance from a planet away. Moms really were the same everywhere.

“Hogarth, put some bacon back on the pan this moment,” Annie said. 

_ Bacon _ , Jim thought.  _ That’s what that is. _

“Ah, mom, c’mon,” Hogarth whined, even though he immediately walked back to the counter. “I’m a growing boy.”

“And Cynthia’s a growing girl. And your father is a man who deserves to have breakfast in the morning as well,” Annie concluded. 

Hogarth walked back to the table, his stack of bacon considerably shorter than before. He slumped into the seat next to Jim, feigning annoyance. As if remembering Jim was there, he sat up and used his fork to wave in the direction of Jim’s food. “You gotta eat.”

“Of course,” Jim said. He looked at his bacon and the yellow...stuff. And a fluffy mound of brown something. It had little blue spots in it. Jim was sure it was perfectly harmless.

“You don’t know her, Cynthia.” Hogarth continued to talk as he stuffed the yellow stuff in his mouth. “She’s my little sister. About yay high.” Hogarth held out a hand and leveled it a little below the table. "She slept through all the racket Kimo and I were making getting you inside."

"And it most certainly was a racket," said Annie, exiting the kitchen with a plateful of food. There was green on her plate where there was none on Hogarth's. In one hand, she held a glass of some orange liquid. It didn't look terribly appetizing, but who was Jim to critique the way people on this planet lived their lives. “You could've caught cold, you were so wet."

“A cold? In the  _ summer _ , mom?”

"Hogarth, if you don't mind, may you go back upstairs and wake up your father? I know he's awful tired, but wake him up and your sister. Breakfast is a family affair and you," she nodded to Jim. "Today, you're a guest of the family."

Hogarth rolled his eyes at the sentimentality, but he obediently left his chair and started running up the stairs, loudly shouting "Cynthia" and "Dean" as he did.

Hogarth gone, Jim and Annie sat in a tense silence. Annie stared at Jim, again with those searching eyes.

_ Probing, more like it, _ Jim thought.

"Montressor," Annie said, finally.

Jim's nodded, figuring that the lady must’ve heard him say that to Hogarth on the stairs. "Yes. Near Russia." He was happy that he remembered the name of that country. 

Annie smiled, neatly cutting her bacon into small pieces. "And here I was thinking, all this time, that it was near Germany."

Jim wondered why, but decided to go with it. "It's near both Germany and Russia."

“That’s hardly possible,” Annie said. “The two countries are miles and miles apart. And the first time I learned about Montressor, I went straight to the local library to find out where exactly it was. I couldn’t find it, and I hardly knew anything about Germany besides what I found out in the paper. I just gave him the benefit of the doubt.”

_ Him? _ Jim thought.  _ Who told her about Montressor. _ Jim was more than aware that the mission was the priority, but this was a shock he hadn’t expected. His mind started going. Who was this Montressin? Why did they come to Earth? Why wasn’t this in their briefing? What was so special about Rockwell?

Katherine was going to love this. Anything that complicated matters would bring her spirits up.

“Who?” Jim asked. He put on a relaxed persona, not revealing how curious he actually was. He didn’t want to arouse suspicion. He ate some of the yellow stuff. It was salty, but not bad.

Annie shook her head, as if shaking away a memory. "There's almost an uncanny tendency for things to fall from space into Rockwell,” she said instead of answering.

Before Jim could ask her what she meant by that cryptic statement, the sounds of heavy footsteps bounded down the stairs. Annie straightened her back and Jim turned around. Hogarth led the troupe, his hands flying around as he started recounting the tale of the night before to the people behind him. A young red-faced girl with curly black hair was carried by a yawning man, his black hair was as messy as Hogarth’s. 

“The food smells delicious,  _ ché _ ,” the man said, his voice gruff with sleep. Jim remembered that his name was Dean, if the name that  Hogarth shouted up the stairs was any indication. Dean kissed the girl, Cynthia, on the head before letting her down. As she ran to her mother, Dean yawned and stretched his arms above his head before running his hand down his face. The hair on his face was unshaven and the skin under his eyes was dark, but a joking smile played at the corner of his lips. “I’m not sure if it’s as good as the dream I was having, but I’m sure it’s somewhere up there.”

“You were working on that project for ages. Your client will love it,” Annie assured him.

“It’s not even about that anymore,” Dean said, rubbing his eyes. Jim noticed that the tips of his fingers and spotted over had shirt was a dark grey color, like they were stained. “It’s about building a brand. It’s a pride thing. I have my own standards.”

Annie kissed him on the cheek. “I know. And there’s eggs, bacon, and crepes in the kitchen. The oatmeal is for Cynthia.” The girl shouted a little “Yay!” as she ran to the kitchen.

Dean began walking towards the kitchen when he noticed the extra man sitting at the table. Leaning against the wall, he greeted him. “And you must be the famous man who fell from the sky. Heard you had a bad fall.” He pointed at his own head in the same place where the ice-pack on Jim’s head rested.

“I should probably change that before it melts in your air,” Hogarth commented to himself from the table.

“I did,” Jim said, answering Dean. He wasn’t sure what else there was to say. He was still thinking about what Annie told him.

Dean chuckled before heading into the kitchen. “What is it with this town?”

Whatever it was, Jim was going to be graded on finding out what, so he hoped he would come across the answer soon enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all idk French, so don't expect there to be a lot in here. but, when I'm older, I might learn it even though it looks like a stupid aesthetic language. I just kinda hate how it's a part of my culture taken away from me and my mom before we were born. This really isn't a story note, but it's just a me note. yeaehh


	10. Louie Louie (Or Saving Someone's Life Isn't Enough To Save Hogarth From Jazz)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jim meets the rest of the family and Hogarth notices his Mom acting strange. What's up with that?

Hogarth couldn’t understand what was bugging his mom. The entire time during breakfast, his mom would make odd glances at Jim. 

He had to leave the table to go to the kitchen eventually. He forgot that he had offered to change the man’s ice pack, and his mom told him that he “ought not to offer something and not do it”. However, from the time that Hogarth left and till he got back, his mom was still making those curious looks at Jim.

Maybe he just had “one of those faces”, something Dean had once said about himself (more than once, someone would say he looked very similar to Gregory Peck, simply tanner than the actor is). Which was the only thing Hogarth could conclude with.

The man was odd, though.  It was probably just the whole getting-his-head-hit thing, but he was just strange. He flattened a blueberry with his hands and looked surprised when it squeezed out a dark-red color. He chewed oatmeal like he was expecting it to be hard. He sniffed everything before he ate it.

Well, that probably wasn’t too weird. Some kids at school did that too.

“I forgot we had a guest. If I remembered that, I would’ve worn something nice..” Dean asked. He wasn’t looking at Jim. He was too busy trying to get Cynthia to eat her eggs. Hogarth’s sister was five years old. You’d think that by now, she’d get over her weird hate for eggs. She didn’t like how they were yellow. Yellow! Hogarth didn’t get it. But his sister refused anything colored yellow, and that included cheese, butter popcorn, bananas, squashes, whatever. And for reasons that Hogarth couldn’t understand, his mother let her get away with it. Not just with yellow food, but everything in general. She happened to be a very picky kid and his mom and Dean were perfectly fine with it. Hogarth couldn’t wrap his mind around it, but when he complained to Dr. Shelnutt about it, the doctor said it was common with the youngest kid in a family. He would know, since he was the youngest and his older brothers would “give him hell” because of it.

“You have a lovely home, sir,” Jim said. He was scooping up the final bit of the oatmeal from his bowl. Hogarth smiled into his glass of orange juice. Nobody could resist his mom’s oatmeal. 

“There’s no need to be _ — _ there you go, Cynthia _ — _ there’s no need to be so formal,” Dean ruffled Cynthia’s curls and finally looked up to face Jim. “You’re not dining with the queen or anything. Last I checked, I ain’t royalty.”

Jim nodded, but Hogarth would bet money that he had no idea what Dean was talking about.

“Also heard you fell from the sky.” At that moment, Cynthia made a gagging sound and Dean sharply told her, “No gagging at the table,  _ che. _ ”

“She doesn’t like yellow things,”  Hogarth commented. “Just in case you like context or something.” Hogarth reached lightly tapped Cynthia’s foot with his leg under the table. She focused her dark brown eyes onto Hogarth’s blue ones and Hogarth held up a finger to his lips meaning for her to be quiet. His sister instead shook her head and stuck her tongue out instead.

“Stop provoking your sister, Hogarth,” his mother said, raising her eyebrows at Hogarth. She carefully sliced her pancake into small pieces.

Hogarth shook his head in disbelief and slouched into his seat. 

“My question is this,” Dean continued. “If you fell from the sky, there had to be a reason for you being up there in the first place.” He paused to eat a forkful of his own scrambled eggs. “Now, I don’t recall hearing about any satellites or the like, so I don’t think agree with Hogarth about that.”

Hogarth rolled his eyes at that and he, Dean, and Annie waited for an answer. Not Cynthia, however, since she didn’t seem interested in the conversation. She just sang to herself while stuffing blueberry pancakes into her little mouth.

“Uh,” Jim started. To Hogarth, it looked like he was trying to find the answer himself, like he didn’t know. Hogarth figured it was the knock to his head that was causing all of this, so he was determined to make a note to never join a contact sport. “I don’t remember. It’s all a blur.”

“You seem to remember “Montressor”, was it?” Annie mentioned, speaking up.

Jim shrugged. “I remember little bits, here and there. Nothing solid.”

Hogarth gave a low whistle. “That sucks.”

Annie gasped. “Hogarth!”

“I’m just saying that it’s a tough situation,” Hogarth elaborated. “I’ve read about this. Amnesia’s a terrible thing. Imagine waking up and not remembering anything about yourself.”

“I remember little bits,” Jim repeated.

“Imagine waking up and not remembering almost anything about yourself.”

“I’ll drive you to the hospital,” Dean offered. “Show you the sights. You probably didn’t see much on your way down. You’ll just need to change into new clothes.” He gestured at Jim’s suit. “What, is that required to fly?”

Jim shrugged. “I don’t remember.”

“Of course,” Dean said, a laughing tone in his voice. “You might be able to wear some of my clothes. We’ll make it work. What size are you?”

Hogarth was pretty sure Jim was gonna say the exact same thing. Dean beat him to it, though.

“You don’t remember, don’t you?"

Jim nodded, smirking. “Exactly, sir.”

Dean raised his hand and made a shaking motion, like he was brushing that word. “Don’t call me “sir”. Call me “Dean”. Actually, I don’t think I formally introduced myself to Mr. Formal. I hope you don’t mind if I call you that.” Jim opened his mouth to speak, but Dean was faster. “I’m Dean McCoppin.” He held out his right hand, waiting for the man to shake it.

Jim looked at Dean’s extended hand, confused. He glanced at Hogarth. “What do I _ — _ ”

“You shake it,” Hogarth whispered to him. “With your hand, you know?.”

Jim held out his left hand. 

It was Dean’s turn to look confused. Not letting it stop him, Dean twisted his hand to shake the man’s hand. It was an awkward handshake and Jim’s hand hung loosely. “Then, you would introduce yourself.”

“Right,” Jim said. “I’m James, or Jim, Hawkins.”

Dean released his hand. He chuckled warmly. “We’ll work on that.” And with a laugh, he began to tell a funny story about a client of his while Cynthia added nonsensical inputs here and there, getting a laugh out of everyone, even Jim. Hogarth started retelling his tale from last night, maybe embellished in some places but who knew besides him and Kimo? And all the while as the McCoppin family, plus one, ate their breakfast, Hogarth watched as his mother watched Jim.

\-----------------------------------------------

When Jim appeared on the door step outside the house, Hogarth couldn’t help but laugh. Hogarth had been waiting for Jim to exit the house after Dean showed him how to operate a shower and laid out some of his clothes on the rack inside the bathroom. Dean’s khaki pants were extremely baggy on him while his brick red shirt was too tight at the shoulders. Even the shoes were bigger, making him look clownish. Jim even seemed to be aware of the silly nature of his appearance and, once he noticed Hogarth, he cleared his throat and rubbed the back of his reddening neck. 

Hogarth could sympathize with him. On the few Sundays that he and his mom went to Mass soon after his mom got married, Dean would sometimes offer up his “nice” clothes to Hogarth since Hogarth didn’t have “nice” clothes himself. Hogarth was much more comfortable in slacks that didn’t need to be starched and ironed, thank you very much. He also much preferred his striped t-shirts to sweater vests. But, his mom insisted and Hogarth liked Dean a lot, so he went along with it. According to Dean, the Lord’s day wasn’t meant for wearing flashy clothes or whatever. But unflattering and dull khakis and sweater vests are still unflattering and dull.

_ At least Jim’s not wearing a sweater vest _ , Hogarth thought with a smirk.

“We’re gonna get you some new clothes, don’t worry,” Hogarth said. “Those probably don’t feel too comfortable, huh?”

“What, these?” Jim looked down at his large shoes and examined the shirt he was wearing. “It’s fine. There’s no need to.”

“Wow,” Hogarth started, incredulous. “Dean’s right. You really are Mr. Formal.” He began walking to where Jim was standing. The older man looked up at the sky, as though incredulous. Maybe he’s from somewhere that’s perpetually cloudy. Hogarth read somewhere, probably in one of Kimo’s encyclopedias, that London is always cloudy. Then again, it’s not like Jim sounded British. So, that mystery persisted.

Hogarth shook his head, continuing. “No, see, I can’t do that,” Hogarth explained. “Mom kinda badgered me into making this New Years Resolution, about me being more courteous and stuff. So, I’m gonna get you some new clothes. I’d hate to walk around in clothes that didn’t fit. Plus, I know how weird it feels sometimes. Like, when I was eleven, that was when I really started sprouting. Nothing fit after that.”  While they walked to the car, Hogarth’s hands made an upwards motion, as if indicating how tall he had gotten. “And none of my pants fit. I mean, they fit, sure, but they were too short. Dean called them “high water” pants, but at the beginning, I didn’t want to get new clothes. Like, I’m committed to my old stuff. If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it. But, once I finally got some new pants that were longer, I felt much better, especially since my ankles weren’t always exposed. You know what I mean?”

“Sure,” Jim said, grinning. “You sure do talk a lot, you know that?”

“Yeah, I know,” Hogarth said. “You should meet Kimo. He can out-talk me any day of the week.” At that moment from inside the car, Dean chose that moment to press on the horn. Shrill and loud, it stopped Hogarth in the middle of what he had been planning to say. Hogarth held out a finger to Jim, indicating for him to wait, before he shouted, “We’re coming!” Mostly to himself, he muttered a soft “Jeez.”

Dean reached across the front and opened the door for the passenger side while Hogarth opened the door for a seat in the back. Eyeing Jim, he watched as the man slightly hesitated before entering the car himself, closing the door behind him. 

“Alright,” Dean began. He turned the steering wheel in the direction of the road away from their house and Hogarth could hear the sound of gravel being crushed underneath the car’s wheels. “So, Jim Hawkins, do you have any musical preferences? Radio doesn’t pick up a lot, but it picks up folk, country, blues, this one doo-wop station that I don’t care for. Or maybe you’re a news man, just wanna listen to what’s going on in the world.”

“Aw, c’mon,” Hogarth wined from behind. He couldn’t believe it. “You’re giving him a choice in music? You’re letting him choose?”

“He’s a guest, kid,” Dean replied.

“I practically saved his life. I should get a choice.”

“What do you typically listen to?” Jim asked. He seemed to amused by the whole situation.

Hogarth groaned, knowing full well he lost this battle.

“Jazz,” Dean said. Hogarth heard him keep his voice cool and unaffected, like he was saying something unimportant. As if he didn’t live for it. “Miles Davis, Charlie Parker, John Coltrane.” He made a pointing gesture with his thumb pointing at Hogarth seated behind them. “Some people don’t, or can’t, appreciate good music.” He made a tsking sound with his tongue. “Now, I’ve been trying with this kid for the past few years. And he won’t budge. Keeps going on about how hip this “rock and roll” nonsense is.”

“No one says “hip” anymore, Dean. It’s “boss” now,” Hogarth stated. “And rock and roll is a lot better than jazz.”

“He even wants a guitar for Christmas. It’s the new thing.”

“Better than a saxophone,” Hogarth argued.

Dean hmmed instead of commenting further and turned up the volume.

Hogarth slumped in his seat and braced for the inevitable.

Jim said that he wasn’t sure if he had an opinion on Jazz. And Dean turned the dial until it landed on a station playing Billie Holiday. “The Same Old Story.”

Hogarth relaxed. At least it wasn’t Miles Davis. He could only take so much trumpet.

The endless green of the forest slowly changed into faded red and brown of the buildings of downtown Rockwell. It was a slow day, a Saturday, and most people were doing nothing at home or might have gone downtown to the city. A few people might have left earlier to whatever vacation destination they had planned.

“Dr. Siegel should be in today. Least he said as much on the phone.” Dean parked the car outside a small building. It was a faded yellow, with two white seats outside for people who wanted to enjoy the weather, Hogarth supposed. A lone black cat crept along the side of the building and Hogarth wasn’t superstitious, he was a self-proclaimed man of science, but he just didn’t like cats. He once had to babysit for the lady with four kids. The kids he had no problem with. It was the three cats that the lady had who bothered him the entire time. One scratched him, but that wasn't the issue. It was like their large yellow eyes stared into his soul. 

He just didn’t like cats and avoiding them was the best way to go, in his opinion.

“He said he’d be expecting us,” Dean said. He turned the car off. “Alright folks, get down from the car.”

“Get down?” Jim asked confused. 

“He means “get out” of the car,” Hogarth offered. He remembered when Dean and his mom got married and after the initial excitement of the days leading up to that, to the actual day, to the days afterwards, Hogarth ran into some issues. Dean wasn’t from Rockwell. He was from the South. But, he wasn’t simply “from the South”. He was from Southern Louisiana, Dean emphasized the “Southern” part, and they spoke totally different down there. There were certain things that Dean would say and he and his mom would have no idea what he was talking about, even though he was speaking plain English. Like when he would say “come see” all the time. It took Hogarth like seven months for him to get the hang of Dean meaning “come over here” when he said “come see”. 

So, he understood the confusion.

Hogarth exited the car and closed the door behind him. The sun outside wasn’t as hot as it had been before. The again, it wasn’t as humid. It was still hot outside, but it was unusually bearable. Jim fidgeted with his neck of the shirt he was wearing. Hogarth wondered if he was from a place that didn’t get this hot.

The three of them walked down the short path to the door of Dr. Siegel. On the window next to the door, words painted in all white, was “Elliot Siegel, MD. Monday - Thursday: 8am - 5pm.  Friday: Closed. Saturday - Sunday: 9am - 3pm.” It was all written in some really fancy script which Hogarth figured people tended to do once they were over the age of 40. It’s just built into people or something. 

Dean knocked on the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, the doctor their meeting is Jewish. I know that there isn't a large Jewish population in Maine, but there is a Jewish population regardless (I couldn't think of a last name and my mind immediately went to "Siegel" because my roommate plays some fallout game featuring Chandler Bing voicing some guy based on Benny Siegel so I'm gonna roll with it). I'm not Jewish so I'm not sure how realistic it is to have a doctor's office that closes on Friday (because Friday is for Shabbos if my research is right and is a day of rest) but *mac macdonald voice* google...is a Liar sometimes. Also, I'm getting contradicting things from different websites, so I'm gonna leave it at this lol
> 
> And I can totally see Dean sticking with the slang of yesteryear and Hogarth groaning about how old he is
> 
> Also, Hogarth has a younger sister now because I say so


End file.
